Dark Temptation: on potentially permanent HIATUS
by Minnakoda
Summary: After the Cullens abandoned Bella and Jasper following her disastrous birthday, they find their lives taking unexpected turns. Drifting through his days, Jasper decides to use his power to have some fun at the grocery store, and it could change everything
1. Chapter 1

**Dark Temptation**

**Summary**: After the Cullens abandoned Bella and Jasper in the wake of Bella's disastrous birthday party, they find their lives taking unexpected turns. Drifting through his days, Jasper decides to use his powers to have a little fun at the grocery store, and it could change everything.

This story draws from the one-shot I wrote for the Lovin' in the Oven contest ( www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/ u / 2399920 / Lovin_In_The_Oven_Contest ) called "Clean Up in the Produce Aisle" – it can be found on my profile. If you have a hunger for tasty lemons, you should check out all the other contest entries, they are fabulous!

I want to give a big round of applause to one of the coolest ladies in the fandom, Leelan Oleander, who is kind enough to call me on my shit and also provides great moral support and is just generally full of awesomesauce and win. Also thanks to mzbionic, twisample14 and frantic-daydreamer for having a look at this for me and giving me some much needed feedback. Also, I'm sticking with the Canadian spelling, get over it!

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.

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**Dark Temptation **

**Chapter 1**

Hmm, pink. Pink - ah! Precious Princess Pink.

No.

Hmm, red? Maybe…no wait. Mulberry. Yes mulberry, what is that song? "_Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the…_" I started humming along to the tune in my head only to be interrupted.

"Pumpkin! Are you listening to me at all?"

I frowned and huffed, irritated at being disrupted from my singing, however tone deaf and cringe worthy it may have been. Back to what I was doing; yes, Mulberry, or no, wait-what about Confucian Crimson?

"Damnit woman this is important!"

I looked over at my husband, standing there in all his manly glory, trying his hardest to glare down at me. I could see the amusement ripple across his features as I held two bottles of nail polish up to him, waving them around to indicate I wanted his opinion.

"Ugh, neither. Do that one where it's all natural and shiny with the white bit on the ends." He shook his head at me, still struggling to hide his smile.

"French Manicure." I hummed in thought, considering his proposal, then smiled up at him. "Thanks Princess," I cooed at him, all sickeningly sweet.

His head whipped around, glaring at me for once again calling him Princess. He turned his back on me and resumed his pacing of the living room. He had been doing this for days, trying to go over the plan, trying to make everything 'perfect'.

I picked up my glass of Riesling, smirking at him over the rim as I carefully considered my next option. You could only push him so far. My husband had a great sense of humour, but he also had a strong sense of duty, and I wasn't in the mood for another one of these discussions. I took a sip of the cool liquid and decided on my own little plan.

I tried to hide my smile as I reached over to pick up another bottle from off of the coffee table by my feet.

"Dark chocolate?" I waved the offending bottle of nail polish in his direction, quirking an eyebrow. This could go either way, but I had another trick up my sleeve.

"Goddamn it, Pumpkin. This is fucking important. Stop fucking around with your goddamned foul smelling beauty crap and pay attention. You know, you used to be real smart."

He whirled around and snarled at me, impatience taking over and pushing his usual playful demeanour to the backburner. This would not do. In order for this discussion to be productive at all, he needed to be in a more agreeable mood.

I shrugged my shoulders, replacing the brown nail polish and reaching for my ace-in-the-pocket. I had been saving this one for a special occasion, and it seemed like now was the occasion. I turned my head and called over my shoulder.

"Sister dearest, hubby is being so cruel to me; he won't even help me pick out a nail colour. Whatever is a poor girl to do with such a big mean man?"

Quick as a flash, I saw my 'sister' waltz into the room. Flashing her eyes over to me, she caught onto my plan quickly and grinned. Looking over my husband appraisingly, she tutted and turned to me.

"Well sister-mine, we just can't have that, now can we? Who needs men anyway? You know, I could always help you out with your little problem." She winked at me as she leaned over, brushing her breasts against my arm while she reached to grab the bottle out of my hand.

"Why yes, I do think you are in need of some Luscious Lesbian…Lavender," she said, winking over at hubby.

Upon seeing the look on his face, we both cracked up- the combined force of our giggles nearly bouncing me off the couch before I managed to right myself.

"Oh, for the love of Gord, girls, who the hell makes up names for these things anyways? Lesbian lavender? What the hell!"

He was ranting and roaring and failing his arms around wildly, but I could tell my mission had been successful when I saw the amusement dancing in his eyes. He suddenly dove, tackling us both and knocking us, along with the couch, backward in the process. I sighed in relief, laughing along with the two of them; he knew why I was being a brat, and that he needed to calm down, but he just couldn't do it on his own.

"Okay, Big Poppa, now that we're all settled, let's get this couch righted and get me another glass of wine since you so gracefully knocked mine over." I giggled from my position, lying on the floor, on my back, with my legs flailing in the air.

I smiled up at my husband as he leaned down to help both of us up off the ground, and then righting the couch before disappearing to the kitchen. He returned shortly, carrying a fresh glass of wine for me, and settled himself on the red leather recliner across from us.

"OK, alright, I'm focussed now." I clapped and then rubbed my hands together, calling our little session to order. "Apparently it's time to go over the plan, again, and discuss all the details."

I looked over to the recliner expectantly, waiting for the point of his earlier ranting to come clear.

"Alright my little lesbian lovers, I don't know when, but things are going to start to change soon." He was leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasping his hands together under his chin. He was eyeing me suspiciously, waiting for me to pipe up with some wiseass comment.

"Yeah about that, why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't we just be direct about all of this? Or hell, why are we even bothering with this elaborate plan?"

I crossed my arms and glared at him with exasperation. Yes, I always knew he was one for dramatics, but this was pushing the envelope even for him.

Stretching out in the recliner, resting hands behind his head, he grinned over at me.

"Oh my little darlin', this is going to be so much fun. You don't know even half of what is in store for you."

I looked over at the blonde bombshell grinning on the couch next to me and sighed. I just can't win with these people.

"Yeah, what's with that…I know you're not telling me everything, but what I don't get is WHY you won't just tell me what you know! What am I missing? This is my LIFE, not some fucking game for your amusement. You are my HUSBAND, no matter how little that means to you…"

My rant was cut off by two very aggressive sounding growls. I shut my eyes and began banging my head against the back of the sofa. Good god.

"Yes, I am your husband, and you are my wife, and don't get me wrong, I very much enjoy your wifely devotion." Without even looking, I could tell he was wiggling his eyebrows at me suggestively.

"*cough*slut*cough*" I turned my head to wink at sissy and stifled a giggle at her expression. She was struggling to fix me with a disapproving glare but failed miserably when I slid over and rested my head on her lap.

"Oh, honey, don't worry, I can be wifely devoted to you too." I wiggled my head around in her lap and tried to look up at her innocently as I reached up and patted her left tit gently. Unfortunately, or fortunately I suppose, the bounty that were her breasts were kind of obscuring my view of her face. I could still feel her shaking with laughter.

"Ok, girls, enough dicking around. This is serious." He giggled and continued, "I said dicking…oh god." Clearing his throat, he stood up and paced over to the fireplace. He turned his back on us, and I could tell that he was gently tracing the lines of his medals from the war.

"Honey, I know you don't understand why this is so important, but you…" he broke off, and his shoulders hunching over in defeat. "Damn it, you can barely even talk about it. Do you remember what you were like when I found you? Do you want to have to keep running, keep hiding all your life? I know you love me, as I love you, but this just isn't the way it's supposed to be."

He pounded his fist down on the mantle, flakes of granite raining down to his feet.

"Fuck sugar, we have to do this." He raged, fists clenched at his side, frustration and anger evident in his posture.

"Sweetheart, we know that maybe you are feeling apprehensive, and I...we understand that. But you need to know that no matter what happens, we will always be there for you, and we will always support you. Yeah, maybe Sir Breaks-A-Lot over there is making this much more complicated than it needs to be, but he wouldn't lead you wrong. You need to listen to what he has to say." I moved my head out of her lap and looked my sister in the face. This might have been the first time I had ever heard her sound so serious. She was a snarky bitch like me, and the fact that she was being so sober about this shocked me.

I frowned to myself. I understood where they were coming from; I still couldn't wrestle my way out from under the thumb of my past. I get it. I whimpered, and then suddenly found myself encircled by strong arms, squished up against luscious breasts. I nestled my face into my sister's hair and breathed deeply, finding comfort in the familiarity.

"Ok, I get it. We can't keep going on like this, I need to move forward, but…" I sighed to myself and turned to face Big Poppa, "I just don't understand why all the subterfuge, the drama. Can't we just…I don't know, be direct about this?"

"Because direct won't work!" He roared, twirling around to face me, and stomping across the room to stand over me.

I gazed up at his face; normally so relaxed and carefree, now drawn with tension. His eyes nearly black with anger, his brown hair falling across his forehead, his lips pulled tight, his chest rising and falling violently with rage. My eyes continued their path downwards, appreciating the strong lines, the dips and bulges of muscle emphasized by the tightness of his t-shirt, further, until I reached the buckle on his belt.

Fuck me. I stared at his belt buckle, willing my mind to see something else, but no, I couldn't erase this. His big shiny silver belt buckle, standing prominently and less than three feet from me had captured all of my attention. It was an oversized monstrosity of chrome and lacquer, and it was staring me right in the face.

I looked up at the man who had literally saved my life so many times and could hardly suppress my laughter. Soon I was shaking with the effort it took to hold in my guffaws. I grinned up at the incredulous expression on his face and struggled with all my might to keep a sober expression as I quirked an eyebrow at him, reading what written in big swirly letters, right above his crotch.

"_Disco Fever_? Really?"

He stared down at me, frustration evident in the set of his jaw as I started humming, and then breaking out into the full song and dance, replete with jazz hands.

"_Let's have some fun, this ride is sick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick_."

"A- Fuck You, Disco is Forever, and B – are you at all capable of taking anything seriously?" He fumed at me, evidently not enjoying my off-tune, off-beat, off-everything rendition of one of the worst pop songs of the decade.

I sighed deeply. "I just…I can't do this right now, I'm going out. I need to pick up some groceries, do either of you want anything?"

"Yeah, Pumpkin, can you pick me up some of the Axe soap that smells like sex and spice? I think it's called _Dark Temptation_."

I looked at him with a what-the-fuck expression written all over my face, and then shrugged and walked out of the room to grab my purse and my keys.

"See you later, bitches; please don't defile my goddamn kitchen counter again! I have to eat there."

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Ok ladies (and gents?), thanks for reading. I hope you'll stay with me on this journey because I think it might be a lot of fun. I'm going to try and post every week, but since I spend my days writing science stuff, writing fiction is a struggle. I am a snarky bitchy individual, but when I put fingers to word processor, it's a struggle not to become clinical and impersonal in my writing… so it takes a while.

If you were confused by how this relates in any way shape or form to the one-shot, you were supposed to be. It might make a bit more sense next chapter

Big news, the one-shot this story was based off (Clean Up in the Produce Aisle) was recc'd by the lovely ladies over at the **Jasper's Naughty Girls** blog (OMG!) on their Sunday One-Shot Wonder a few weeks ago ( jaspersnaughtygirls (dot) blogspot (dot) com / 2010 / 08 / sunday-one-shot-wonder-recs_21 (dot) html ). I am still so excited about this. It's almost like I'm a real ficster now instead of just a reader.

Almost more exciting, some crazy fool nominated the same oneshot for a Best One-Shot award over at the **Hidden Star Awards** ( thehiddenstarawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com ). You all should head over there and check out the nominees, voting doesn't open for a few days… so you've got time to check out all the great stories and hopefully find some hidden gems. My homegirl **Leelan Oleander **has been nommed for her story **Encore**, which recently finished up. And if we're lucky she'll start posting the sequel soon. It's a great read, and she even managed to make me cry. The only thing that makes me cry usually are Hallmark commercials and dislocating my shoulder (in that order). There are some other GREAT stories up there too, like **Dead Confederates** and **Underneath Your Scars** (and a bunch of others I haven't read… yet). I will tell you honestly, I came across a Peter/Bella story (which I normally wouldn't read) called **Once Bitten, Twice Shy** by **lifelesslyndsey** on the nominee list, and I am pissing myself laughing while reading it. It's got some great snark and a whole lot of crazy.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy my silliness, and I'll see you again next week


	2. Chapter 2

**Dark Temptation**

This chapter is a mildly modified version of the one-shot that sparked this all (see Clean Up in the Produce Aisle on my profile). Yes it is seriously cheap to post this as a chapter and as this week's only update, however I don't have the next chapter done yet… If you've read the one-shot you could PROBABLY skip this, but who would want to... getting pleasured by Jasper is the way I want to spend my afternoon, that's for sure. And I have changed some of the details as well.

I haven't sent this modification off to Leelan like I normally would, simply because she's already read it a few too many times I think, and I wouldn't want to put her through that again. And I'm about to bitch slap the supercomputer and needed something to distract my self from throwing my laptop off my balcony. So I decided to post! And now I'm rambling and not coming across as nearly as funny as I wanted to. Shit. Anyways the point of that was, if there are typos and grammar, let me know... and I apologize for my substandard use of the English language.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

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**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 2**

**JPOV**

As I aimlessly perused the aisles of the grocery store in New Hampshire, I pondered the ridiculousness of being here. Why was I in a grocery store? It's not like I was going to EAT anything here, well… at least not anything that was on sale, although the woman in the freezer section looked like she might have a price. Going on the lust and desperation rolling off her and directed at me, I wouldn't imagine her price would be very high, although I doubt that she and I had the same things in mind.

Yes, I was lonely since that she-bitch had left me, but some 40-year-old woman desperate for any companionship she could find was not what I had in mind. I continued wandering about the store, thinking about buying soap and shampoo and contemplating my plans for the rest of the day. I was wondering what I was going to do with myself, when suddenly I was hit with a surge of shock, followed by a wave of sexual frustration. I poked my head around the edge of the aisle and identified a short brunette woman in the produce aisle as the source of these overwhelming feelings. I careful looked at the woman as she glared at a seemingly harmless display of oranges. Strange, this woman cycled through her emotions so rapidly, something I had rarely encountered before.

As I pondered this, I could swear I felt simultaneous surges of both rage and lust emanating from her petite form. Oranges, really? Huh…I looked closer and noticed the display labelled them as blood oranges. I wonder what about those specific fruits caused such an array of emotions from her.

I decided in that moment to have some fun, maybe cause a little mischief. My family had always disapproved of me using my gifts to play with people, but they weren't here now, were they.

I frowned as I recalled how my lovely wife, had strongly suggested that I take some time for myself after the unfortunate incident at my supposed brother's girlfriend's birthday party. She said that I was weak, that I couldn't be trusted, and that I was hurting the family. I needed to find control on my own terms, and that when I was ready, she would be waiting for me. Fucking bitch. Yeah, boot me to the curb and then tell me to come home? Fuck that noise, woman.

How would you feel if you were battling not only your own blood lust, but that of your entire family, including feeling the intensity of my brother's reaction to his singer? Yeah, I wasn't proud of myself, but I knew I would have stopped myself. But no, fucking Doucheward had to go and overreact, throwing the poor girl into a pile of glass plates. Asshole.

In the midst of all this crap, I was kicked out of my home by said Doucheward, and denied the change to apologise. Days after I left, I was hit with yet another lovely surprise. Divorce papers, with a little note saying it was "So I could be free to find myself". Midget cunt. What is this some kind of spirit quest? Am I going to find out that in my past life I was a majestic Eagle, and the spirit of my grandfather will watch over me always? I call bullshit.

I could feel my irritation being reflected in the emotions of those around me, shit, I must be projecting again. I swiftly reined in my gift, calming myself down so that I could concentrate on the task at hand. I caught sight of the petite brunette again, reaching out for her emotions. Good, she was still frustrated, horny, and sad. Why would such a pretty girl be so sad? Well, maybe I can help you out there a little bit, darlin'. I grinned to myself, oh darlin' what a ride you are in for.

I couldn't see her face clearly, but I could see that she had a near perfect figure – short and thin, but with delicious curves. She looked very fragile, almost broken, but by the way she carried herself, you could see she had a great inner strength.

I had this strange feeling that I knew her from somewhere, but shook it off. I don't make a habit of becoming friendly with humans, so I must have just seen her in passing before. She definitely had the type of body that I would remember; she was gorgeous, but unassuming. Dressed simply in a short flowing white skirt and a deep green tank top, long brown hair flowing down her back to her waist, she wasn't flaunting her beauty like so many women do, but it shone through. I couldn't understand why a girl this stunning would be feeling so sexually frustrated, but perhaps I could do something about that. I knew that what I had in mind was wrong, but I figured I deserved some fun, and it certainly wasn't going to _hurt_ anyone.

Snickering to myself, I sent a small wave of mischief in her direction as I ducked back around the corner, pretending to busy myself comparing and contrasting different brands of band-aids. Oh the irony. I tentatively reached out with my gift and sent her a small wave of lust. I heard a gasp and smiled as her heart rate began to accelerate.

Wonder, curiosity, and a hint of irritation joined in her emotional state, pushing the sadness away. Good, poor girl is clearly having a bad enough time, let's give her something to be happy about. I peeked around the corner again and saw her picking up a few peaches, squeezing them gently; I suppose this is how humans test for their ripeness. I sent her a wave of lust accompanied by a wave of hunger.

I heard her moan, and watched as she fondled the peaches, slowly bringing one up to her face and rubbing its soft skin against her cheek. She inhaled deeply, seeming to savour the scent as I carefully increased the intensity of both the hunger and the lust I was sending at her. I watched, captivated as her lips slowly closed around the fruit and she took a bite. Juices dribbled down her chin, and I resisted the sudden urge to walk over and lick the sickly sweet smelling liquid off of her, following its progress as it dribbled down her neck. I knew it would taste disgusting, no matter what it smelt like; human food always tasted like cardboard.

My eyes followed the trail of juice down her neck and I felt my pants tighten as her throat bobbed slightly, swallowing the fruit. Hmm, I had better keep focused; I don't normally feel the emotions I send to others so strongly.

Embarrassment washed over her as she realised what she was doing, her skin flushing a delicious shade of pink as blood rushed to the surface of her skin. I wonder how far that blush goes, I thought, trying to subtly adjust my swiftly growing erection. I frowned to myself, willing my own excitement to die down so I could properly focus on what I was doing. Picking up a box of name brand band-aids, I slowly made my way down the aisle, focussing further on the emotions emanating from the brunette.

When I felt embarrassment and frustration battling each other for dominance, I decided it was time to push the game a little further. Picking up a magazine and half-heartedly flipping through it, I sent her another wave of lust as she continued through the fruit section. Her heart rate picked up again, and her breath started coming out in short gasps. She was holding onto the handle of her shopping cart tightly, as if she needed it to keep her upright. I smirked to myself as I stared at her profile, I could make out her nipples tightening through the thin fabric of her shirt. No bra, naughty little girl.

I looked down at my magazine again, frowning at the airbrushed women gracing the pages of the car magazine I had picked up. Why this was the ideal of beauty I would never understand; the frustrated brunette was clearly more gorgeous than any of these plastic bimbos. Disgusted, I threw the magazine into my cart anyway and moved on toward the meat counter.

Ugh, I know I eat from live animals, but something about raw meat just grosses me out.

I pretended to stare at the different cuts of meat while I tried to glance discretely at the brunette from the corner of my eye. She was standing in front of a large display of bananas now, and I could smell her arousal wafting towards me. God, that smelled delicious; I couldn't help but wonder what it would taste like.

I sent another wave of lust at her, struggling to control the fantasies of burying my face between her legs and devouring her. I may have overdone it this time, as she actually moaned out loud while she bent across the display, reaching for a ripe looking bunch of bananas. From this vantage point, I could almost see her luscious ass peeking out from beneath her skirt. I silently willed her to reach just a little further. I wanted to see what kind of underwear would be hiding underneath that innocent looking little skirt.

Control yourself now. I began mentally berating myself, I was clearly getting too into my little game and I began wondering if I should stop. That thought flew out the window however when I saw her gripping a banana firmly in her hand. She ripped it off the bunch and began running her hand up and down its length, squeezing gently.

Surely that is not how a human normally tests bananas for ripeness. Isn't it supposed to be about the colour or the … ughh…. I lost my train of thought again as she slowly began peeling back the skin. I felt her lust spiking without my influence as she slowly brought it to her mouth and ran her tongue around the tip.

I also felt another emotion that it seems she was struggling to hide. Amusement. Hmm...does my little vixen enjoy making a public display of herself? Well, let's see what we can do about that. I swiftly moved myself from the meat counter and made my way over to the bakery as I intensified the level of lust I was directing at her.

Another wave of her mouth-watering scent hit me, and I could almost picture the juices rolling down her thighs. Something about her scent bothered me; it seemed familiar, but also different. There was a very familiar undercurrent to her scent that was smothered by the smell of cherry blossoms, but mixed in with it was another sickly sweet and eerily familiar scent that I also couldn't place. I was now certain I must have seen her before about town, but something tugged at the corner of my memory which made me wonder what I was missing. All of this was of course overpowered by the strength of her arousal which was nearly suffocating me, but oh what a way to go.

I've been in New Hampshire for three years now, attending Dartmouth for American History classes. I wasn't sure what to do with myself after I drifted away from the Cullens, so I struck off on my own, deciding to pursue one of my passions and re-immerse myself in the rich history of America, most of which I had lived through. The Civil War classes were always my favourite, instilling in me a sense of pride that I had been involved in something so important to American history, as well as providing me many laughs at the inaccuracy of most of the accounts of the war.

I began to think back on my days as a soldier in the Confederate army and a strong sense of pride surged through my body. My wife, ex-wife I corrected myself, never understood why having had the opportunity to defend my country was so important to me. I could join any war now and fight without fear, but it was not the same as putting my life on the line when I was so vulnerable. Sure, I felt invincible, riding across the plains, ferrying refugees to safety, but I always knew that it would only take one bullet to end my life. Risking my life for my country was what made me proud, it wouldn't be the same now.

I became distracted from my rumination by a sense of smugness and pride radiating from the brown-haired goddess. She had moved on, apparently finished with her sinful snack, and was now perusing the vegetables. I pondered what could be the cause of the immense pride she was radiating, but figured I must have been projecting again. Or, perhaps she had noticed that quite a few of the males in the produce section were now attempting to discretely adjust themselves, much like I had been doing.

Did my little vixen like knowing the effect she had on males? I certainly enjoyed knowing the effect I had on her, even if it wasn't nearly the same. I was merely manipulating her emotions, artificially forcing her to feel joy, or sadness, or lust as I deemed. She, on the other hand, was controlling the lustful thoughts of those around her simply with her actions. Oh god, and her smell. It was so strong the humans must have been able to detect it, but I could no longer sense any embarrassment or nervousness emanating from her. Instead, I found lust, anticipation and still that hint of smugness.

Walking over to the dairy section, I watched her closely as she continued through the vegetables, slowly trailing her fingers over the tomatoes and peppers as if savouring the texture. I realised I was becoming jealous of the way she was caressing their smooth skin, wishing it was her hands dancing across my chest, down my stomach….I felt my own lust flare again and directed it towards her, watching as her steps faltered.

She leaned over and picked a tomato from the display, caressing it as I imagined she would caress my balls. I sent another staggering wave of lust at her and watched as she slowly crushed the tomato in her fist, moaning lightly as the juices dribbled down her hand, along her arm and dripped off her elbow onto the floor. She leaned over and began licking her fingers, cleaning them off by sucking them into her mouth and releasing them with a light pop. Once her fingers were clean, she slowly licked the trail of juice on her arm and I nearly came at the sight.

I pushed even more lust at her as I started to palm my crotch again, trying to hide behind my cart while watching her as she pressed her legs together and began squirming. I could only assume she was struggling to create friction, friction I found myself imagining I was providing. Struggling to control myself, I randomly selected a few more items off the shelf, putting them in my cart and trying to look inconspicuous.

My fantasies were interrupted by the sound of a cell phone ringing from the purse in front of her on her cart. I heard the beginning strains of Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy playing and I swear I nearly burst out of my pants. Fuck this woman was killing me. Here I was just trying to have a little fun while stocking up on shampoo and wasting some time, and instead I found myself with a cart full of band-aids, magazines, steak and… whipped cream? Oh, and lets not forget the raging hard-on. Well this is certainly a much better way to spend a Saturday afternoon than I had originally anticipated – video games and hunting.

I heard her answer the phone breathlessly.

"Hi Petey" she giggled. Petey? Who was this, her boyfriend? Clearly he wasn't much of a man with all the frustration she had been feeling. I smirked to myself thinking I had satisfied her more without even touching her than this boyfriend was capable of.

I felt a brief flare of jealousy at the though of some other man pleasuring her, but swiftly stifled it as I heard her breathing hitch and her curiosity spike. Fuck, I must be projecting again. What is wrong with me?

She paused, clearly listening to something that this Petey was saying to her. "Oh nothing, just grocery shopping. I'd pick you out something, but I'm not sure they cater to your diet at the Safeway." So her boyfriend was some sort of vegan or fruitarian pansy (shut up, you try spending decades pretending to eat human food and coming up with excuses to avoid it whenever possible and not know this kind of retarded shit). No wonder he couldn't satisfy her, fucker doesn't even eat like a man. I felt another surge of jealousy spike as she laughed into the phone at something the fucker was saying to her.

Where the fuck did that come from?

"Oh Petey, the weirdest thing happened. I think I saw your brother here…. I know right? I thought the whole family was still in Alaska?" A surge of irritation shot through her as she mentioned this family. Hmm.. can't have her getting all wound up, well, at least not that kind of wound up. I slowly walked further down the dairy section towards the frozen foods, sending her another wave of lust as I passed her by, continuing to listen to her phone conversation. She couldn't see me from where I was, but I could see her as she idly picked up a cucumber and started running her finger around the tip.

"Mmmhm… yeah.. no, yeah I'll be there after I'm done shopping…" I sent another wave of lust at her as she formed a ring with her thumb and forefinger, circling the shaft of the cucumber and began stroking the length. Oh fuck, she's trying to kill me. Damn vixen has no idea what she's doing to me and every other male in this store, warm blooded or not. Or does she?

"Yeah, I picked up your soap, but I don't know why the fuck you asked for it, I know you use that stupid girly soap…. Yes I know, it makes you feel pretty… Yeah I get it, wise ass motherfucker, although I don't know why you're being so cryptic about fucking soap."

She whimpered and rubbed her legs together again as I increased the lust I was sending her.

"No I don't think so. Really? Yeah, I'm sure it's him. Don't be a smartass you dumb fucker."

She brought the cucumber up closer to her face and inhaled, running the length of the cucumber under her nose as if savouring the scent. She began rubbing her neck with the cucumber, then running it across her chest, breathing heavily.

"Yeah Pete, it does smell familiar… Stop being such a fucking perv…I…fuck whatever." I sent her another, more concentrated wave of lust. I wanted her off that fucking phone. I was getting extremely jealous of whomever that Petey guy was, this brunette goddess was MINE.

I growled, overpowered by the possessiveness I felt toward this woman. Fuck, I was just supposed to be playing a game with some chick in a grocery store and now she had me wrapped around her fucking finger. She didn't even know I was here. I sent out a wave of lust mingled with possession and found myself moaning along with her as she stuttered and dropped the cucumber.

"Fuck Pete I…I gotta go...fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccckkkk…" She dropped her phone back into her purse and blatantly palmed her tit, moaning and shivering. I sent her a wave of euphoria to bring her over the edge as I nearly came undone myself. I could smell her, hear her, fuck, I could nearly taste her on my tongue as she shook from the strength of the orgasm I had given to her, right in the middle of the produce aisle.

I found myself growling at the sight and quickly turned back to the freezer aisle. I opened the door and leaned in, pretending to inspect the selection of popsicles. I know I'm a vampire, and I don't actually feel hot or cold, but right now, I felt hot all over, and if I could sweat, I know I would be drenched. My erection was becoming painful, and I was hoping the cool air from the freezer would help calm it down. I desperately needed a release and this was clearly not the right place. Fuck, I didn't expect my little game to backfire on me.

I began to think the cold air was having its intended effect when I felt a warm hand slide around my waist and reach down to my grip my length firmly. I startled, shocked at the boldness of this move, and before I could turn around to identify my…attacker, I heard her voice.

"You know, Cowboy, you could have just said hello." I heard the voice of my mystery vixen purr into my ear as she pressed herself up against my back. She slowly stroked her hand up and down my length as she pressed her breasts into my back. I could feel her nipples pebbling from my cold hard skin and it felt so wonderful, so warm. I shivered at the sensation as she ran her thumb over the tip of my still-clothed erection.

I became so lost in the sensation of being surrounded by her warmth that I didn't even think to question how she knew it was me. Suddenly her hand disappeared from my crotch as she reached out and picked up a box of assorted popsicles.

"As much fun as I have had in the produce aisle, it seems I am now in the mood to try my hand playing with something cold and hard," she breathed into my ear as she leaned away. She brushed up against me as she emphasized the word _hand_. I took an unnecessary breath, trying to settle my sudden nerves as I heard a quiet thud. Presumably, she had dropped the box of popsicles into her cart and was waiting for a response from me, but I was still frozen in my spot, mouth hanging open, too stunned for action. Who was this creature, I had to know, and I had to know what she knew.

Spurred into motion by my desperation to uncover the answers, I spun around only to stop dead again as I finally saw the face of my beautiful brunette. Oh god, it couldn't be.

"B…. Bella?"

"Took you long enough, Cowboy, and here I thought you knew all along. Or do you just enjoy pleasuring random women at the grocery store?"

"I..but...you...but…Yes? No, I mean I didn't know it was you I just…You seemed sad and frustrated and I thought…but I didn't know it was you. And I…but…I mean not just some random woman but …" I started rambling on trying to explain myself as she began to smirk. Her head tilted to the side, one hand rested on her hip, even if I weren't an empath I'm sure I would have been able to feel the smugness she was radiating.

"Jesus Jasper, I thought vampires were supposed to be fast. You ok? You seem a little slow on the uptake today."

"But you...how did you know?" I was still struggling to understand what was going on, that my brunette vixen was my brother's ex-girlfriend, the one I had nearly killed in a fit of bloodlust all those years ago. And here she was standing in front of me, with no fear whatsoever.

She smirked at me, a twinkle in her eye. "Jesus, Jasper. Do you think I normally get that horny in the produce aisle? Much less have loud public orgasms while molesting innocent cucumbers? Not that I'm complaining of course, good God I needed that." She paused and looked at me strangely.

"But what exactly are you doing here? I was under the impression that the Cullens were in Alaska? I'm sure Edward and Alice would be less than impressed about your little display back there. In fact, why isn't the all-seeing little pixie here now? I'm sure she would have seen your dastardly plan and swooped in to disapprove." I felt a twinge of something, mischief perhaps, or glee, but as soon as I thought I felt something, it disappeared and was swiftly replaced by her curiosity.

I nervously ran my hand across the back of my neck, scratching lightly. "I uhh…yeah... I'm not exactly with the Cullens these days, we kind of...ahh...parted ways after… well…_The Bella-Birthday-Snack_ _incident_." She frowned slightly. Shit. I shouldn't have brought that up, now she was going to remember that she was supposed to be terrified of me, and that I tried to kill her. For some reason, I really didn't want her to run off screaming, although it would be the natural reaction for her to have under these circumstances.

Instead, she shocked the shit out of me by bursting out laughing. "_The Bella-Birthday-Snack incident_? Really? I get a paper cut, and Doucheward throws me into a table, resulting in me being surrounded by a family of hungry blood-thirsty vampires and you call it the _Bella-Birthday-Snack incident_? That's fucking priceless. I'll have to tell Petey about this one. Oh gods, I'm an 'incident', fucking rich."

Wait WHAT? She's not running away scared? She's laughing? And who the fuck is this Petey and why would she tell him about this…

"Wait, who is this Petey and what the fuck exactly are you telling him? Bella, you know you can't just…"

She cut me off with a wave of her hand. "Oh, this is so none of your business. I haven't told Petey anything for you to worry your dirty little head about and … well you'd understand if you met him." She looked over my shoulder for a second deep in thought and then smirked. "Fuck me, of course he would. I believe you are supposed to be the Dark Temptation he sent me to the store to pick up. Creepy ass motherfucker always sees this shit coming."

I stared at her in confusion as she leaned over and picked up a bottle of Axe body soap, Dark Temptation. Huh… Wait who exactly was this Petey and why…

"I can see you over-thinking things over there killer, so lets blow this joint. I'm hungry and it seems like you've got a whole cart full of goodies for us to play with." She winked at me wickedly and sent me a wave of mischievousness and lust.

"Well, I could think of a few things to do with this whipped cream…" she trailed off, looking up at me from under her lashes. She continued rummaging around in my cart and came up with a questioning look on her face. "Band-Aids? What the fuck?"

"I…uhh…" I trailed off, having no idea how to explain that I had been so busy staring at her nipples that I had no idea what I had put in my cart.

"Bad boy, you were watching me weren't you? Hiding behind the aisles, pretending to shop while you pleasured me from a distance?" She laughed, pushing her cart towards the checkout aisles.

"Come on, Cowboy, what are you waiting for?"

I stood there staring after her. This was Edward's Bella, but at the same time, it so wasn't. What the fuck…and she's…. oh god, she just knocked over some magazines with her cart. Oh god. Please pick them up. Please pick them up. Please….

Oh. Fuck. Me. She did. She is all bent over to pick up the magazines, and flashing me a delicious view of her ass in the process. God, I just want to sink my teeth into that ass. As I stood there staring unabashedly, she looked over at me and winked. She fucking winked, then wiggled her ass in the air before standing up and placing the magazines back in their rack.

I raced over to her, trying to slow myself down to human speed and probably failing miserably. A growl built deep in my chest as I came up behind her and ground my erection into her ass. Towering over her, I looked down, taking in an eyeful of her delicious breasts.

"Teasing me Miss Swan? I think I'm going to have to show you exactly what I can do to you with something cold and hard."

She gulped nervously, hitting me hard with another wave of arousal as I reached across and picked up the box of popsicles.

"Hmm… these will definitely be coming into play," I whispered in her ear as I dropped them into my cart.

* * *

Check out the second round of voting for the **Hidden Star Awards **(thehiddenstarawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com ). Another round of great authors, betas, bannermakers and etcs are up. Go check out the nominees, cast your vote, and show some appreciation for the underappreciated!

Also, for shits and giggles, go onto youtube (dot) com / watch?v=upsZZ2s3xv8 ... Many many giggles.

See you next week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dark Temptation**

You won't believe the crazy I went through trying to get this together. Turns out there is a difference between writers block and simply not being creative. So I drank a large quantity of caffeine and threatened myself with a trip to the gym if I didn't finish it, and voila here you go!

Edit: OMG I'm an asshat, I forgot to remind you all about the awesomeness that is **Leelan Oleander** who keeps my grammar and rambling in order... and whose cat Knuckles does not agree with my stance on revisionist history. And **MzBionic** who told me that the crazy rambling was good. I don't know if she was just being nice, but I took her word for it and posted anyway. So blame her, for everything :D

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 3**

**JPOV**

Loading our grocery bags into the bed of my truck, I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. An hour ago, I had been looking forward to an afternoon of videogames, hunting, and if the mood struck me, (which it inevitably would have) some masturbation. Instead, I find myself climbing into the cab of my truck with my ex-brother's ex-girlfriend, who I had just pleasured in a grocery store, and who happens to be a human. A human whom I had tried to kill the last time I saw her. What the fuck am I doing?

"Cowboy, would you calm down? You're sending out some seriously negative vibes, I much prefer what you were sending my way earlier."

Irritation began overshadowing the anticipation and desire that she had been exuding earlier. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if trying to quell her irritation and centre herself.

"Listen Jasper, I don't know what the fuck you are doing in town here, or why you decided I needed an orgasm at the grocery store - thank you for that by the way, a girl can always use a good O." She chuckled to herself, a deep throaty sound that sounded like jazz and sex and smoke, before shaking her head and continuing.

"As I was saying, I don't know what brings you here, and I really don't give a shit. I'm in the mood for a good time, and if that's not gonna work for you, then feel to drop me off back at the store. If I wanted the panic attack you're sending my way, I'd go fucking cliff diving."

I looked over at her, a little girl spitting fire and wrath like an angry kitten and I decided to stop over-thinking things. Not everything has to be contemplated in depth, and planned out in detail. Sometimes it's good to let things happen naturally and just enjoy the ride instead of scrutinising the journey.

~o~o~

"So this is Casa de Whitlock, huh? Nice digs." My gaze followed Bella as she twirled around my living room, inspecting the little details of my home as if looking for some sign of…something. She giggled and looked over her shoulder to where I standing in the kitchen, splitting my bewildered gaze between the tiny human invading my home and the groceries on the counter in front of me.

Fuck, it was weird having food in my kitchen. What the fuck was I supposed to do with a steak? Maybe Bella will want to eat it. I could pick up a cookbook; maybe learn how to cook steaks. It had been so long since I last ate human food, and most of my human life was spent with my Mama making the meals so I really had no clue what I was supposed to do.

"Uhhh, Bella?" I questioned, interrupting her perusal of the titles on my bookshelves.

"Yeah, Cowboy?" She glanced over her shoulder at me, and went back to her inspection.

"Uhh…" I stumbled over my words. I DON'T stumble over my words. What the fuck? I cleared my throat and started again. "Uh Darlin', what the hell am I supposed to do with this food?"

"I don't know Jasper, eat it, throw it out the window, donate it to a homeless shelter, use it as bait to create a trap for your next meal…. "

I laughed at her last suggestion…an interesting idea, but the hunt is half the fun of feeding, so perhaps not.

"Whatever tickles your fancy, really, but if you plan on keeping the food around for any period of time, most of it needs to go in your fridge. Otherwise it will start to smell; well, it will start to smell to humans, which I assume means it will smell pretty awful to you." She paused, and levelled me with her critical gaze. "You DO have a fridge right?"

I rolled my eyes at her, and picked up the food articles, throwing them haphazardly into my fridge and then pushed all the magazines and bandaids and other junk into a pile on the counter to be dealt with later.

~o~o~

"So Miss Swan," she flinched slightly at my mention of her family name, and I could feel a brief wave of nervousness wash over her. Curious, I mentally shrugged and was about to continue my question when she interrupted me.

"Jasper, what are you doing here?" She wasn't looking at me, she was still staring at my books, but I had a feeling she was staring through them, not at them.

"I live here?" I don't know why that came out as a question, but I was confused. I tried to reach out and feel Bella's emotions, get some handle on where she was going with this, but they were out of my reach, muted somehow. How was she doing this?

"That's not what I asked you, Jasper." I felt a spark of irritation wash across her, as she walked over to my couch and sat down with her head in her hands.

"I…here in the metaphysical sense? Here in this state? Here with you? What do you want to know Bella; I can't read between the lines here," I huffed out impatiently. I was confused, and I really didn't like it. I am supposed to be in charge of the situation, at all times. I can read the meanings behind peoples' words, I can read the hidden messages in the way they move their bodies, the gentle sweep of their arms, the subtle shift of their eyes, the curl up their lips, but I couldn't read Bella and it was really pissing me off. It wasn't just that she wouldn't let me see her face; it was that she was somehow blocking her emotions. Her movements were controlled, dictated, almost seeming rehearsed, as if she was being careful not to give anything away.

"Jasper…" she sighed out tiredly, "why are you here in New England? Why were you at the store today? Why did you bring me back here? Is that a good enough start, or would you prefer to explore and debate the metaphysical and spiritual meanings behind the existence of vampires. I personally hold to the evolutionary biology perspective of existence, though it may be argued that vampirism is not evolution, rather a transformation or metamorphosis from one form of humanity to another. There are those, however, who would argue for a more Creationist theory of the role of vampires on this planet, and the argument that God created all creatures from gerbils to giraffes, and that he created humans in His image. The argument follows that in creating the Devil, he gave the Devil the means to create vampires in his image, as a mockery and threat to humans – free will without good will. Of course, there are permutations to these theories… some believe that vampires are still creatures of God, or that vampirism can be explained as a virus that affects the body much like but opposite to leprosy…"

My jaw dropped at her little tirade, and as I listened to her continue, I struggled to find the words to respond in some way, in any way to the sheer volume of philosophical drizzle that she was expounding. I couldn't stop her, I couldn't respond, I couldn't do anything. So, I stood there, vampire-man-warrior, awed by this little girl and rendered mute by her words. She sat there, crowded in on herself, looking at her hands, or her knees, or perhaps at nothing at all, and spewing forth this litany of philosophical discourse, without an ounce of passion in her voice. Where the fuck is she getting this shit from, it reminds me of impassioned debates that others or I would have had with Carlisle, or with….I was distracted from my thought process as she continued her little rant.

"… argue that vampires are inherently evil, though that could be countered by the preposition that there are vampires who hunt humans only for sustenance, which given the premise that vampires are superior beings, makes them no more evil than the lion hunting the zebra…"

"Bella."

"… vegans and the like might argue that even drinking milk implies evil, but are not carrots living things too? And…"

"Bella."

"… if you accept Descartes discourse on existence, '_Cogito ergo sum'_, or in the original French 'Je pense donc je suis'..."

"BELLA!" I shouted, interrupting the flow of words from her mouth and inducing her to finally raise her head and look at me. Again, she almost seemed to be looking through me, but I could detect the faintest hint of a smirk gracing her lips, and the feeblest of twinkles in her eyes, belying the illusion that she attempted to project, of her detachment from our situation.

"Yes Jasper, did you have a comment to add to the topic?"

"I… what the fuck was that Bella? No, you know what, never mind. Let's stick to the first few questions." I searched my brain for what had preceded her diatribe and recalled her original queries. She waited patiently, head cocked slightly to the side, staring up at me from her perch on the couch.

I crossed the living room, and settled into my recliner as I thought about my answers.

"Why am I here in New England? Well, it seemed as good a place as any, not too much sun and lots of wildlife. I actually came here to attend Dartmouth, I figured I'd skip high school and see what they are teaching as 'American History' these days, it's been a few decades since I've brushed up on the Revisionism they are teaching in universities."

"By Revisionism, are you implying that history text books are inaccurate?" She leaned forward, real interest sparking in her expression.

"Yes and no, I think what I am really implying is that by and large, the historical record we are taught is flat out fiction." I leaned back in my chair, a wide grin spreading across my face. I really hoped she took the bait; Bella had always been a smart girl, and this was one of my favourite topics of discussion.

"So there was no Civil War, Franz Ferdinand was never really shot, the Holocaust wasn't real? Is that what you're saying, because I respect that you're a vampire, and therefore your life experience gives you a different and in some cases better appreciation of human societies, but I call bullshit and I'm going to go make you a tinfoil hat."

"Are you implying I'm a conspiracy theorist? Wouldn't the fact that I was alive during the Holocaust give any statements I make more credence than a history text book?"

"Only in as much as the fact that I was alive during the Clinton Impeachment means that any opinions or statements that I may put forth on that subject are necessarily more accurate than his biographies. I don't have an intimate knowledge of what happened. Maybe Monica blew him, maybe she didn't. Maybe there were other political pressures that were being exerted that caused this all to come to light, and it wasn't about him having an O in the Oval Office so much as it was retaliation for his stance on the natural resource industry. Or, perhaps Monica Lewinski was actually an alien from the planet Betelgeuse, and by performing oral sex on the President of the United States, she ratified a contract stating that Clinton would give absolute control over his position as president to the invading interests from an alien planet, and by impeaching him and removing him from office, the US government was actually saved from alien takeover. I think you're being a snob."

I snorted, "And I think you're being ridiculous, little girl. But, I will give you that we may not always have knowledge of the motivations behind political actions, but we can have knowledge of fact. You forget, little human, that I was born during the Mexican-American War; and I was a human during the War of Northern Aggression. I was a Major in the Confederate Army; I was there during the so-called 'Red River Campaign'. The things they spout in history text books very rarely match up with what I experienced. The tactical manoeuvres they report from the Battle of Manasses, or the First Battle of Bull Run, as they call it now, are not at all depictions of the realities of the situation."

"But were you stationed in Virginia at the start of the war? I though you were Texan."

"Well no, I was being transported across Texas when news of the battle broke,"

"So, your knowledge of the battle is what, gossip? Newspaper reports? The media is hardly a resource to be trusted. Suppression of news during a political conflict is a hallmark of the American nation."

"I suppose you've made my point for me in a way; we can't trust the media, which are often our only resource for recently historical conflicts"

"But, that's not all that a GOOD history textbook will reference. They will explore first-hand accounts from soldiers such as yourself, from political leaders, from civilians. Not vampires, but humans who wrote down their experiences, leaders who documented their movements, exploration of details collected from both sides of a conflict and consensus on a set of facts." She argued back at me, indignation flaring in her eyes. God, she was beautiful when she was riled up.

I smirked at her, and began to refute her arguments. "Both sides of the conflict, that's where your story falls apart. History is always told in favour of the victors. History textbooks imply that the Civil War was about abolishment of slavery, but what about the vast resources that were acquired by the Yankees when they conquered the southern states – gold, cotton, rich agricultural land. Do you think their concern for the slaves was really their driving force when black people were still not afforded basic human rights in the 'enlightened' Northern states?

"Further proof can be seen by comparing the international publications documenting the War of 1812. Some accounts dictate that the Americans tried to invade the Canadian territories, and lost the war because they gained no land. Other accounts dictate that the Americans were revolting against the restrictions placed by the British and the insult to their honour, and won the war in the concessions detailed in the Treaty of Ghent. It's all about perspective."

"Yes, but isn't the important lesson from that war that communication is key in all battles. The Canadians burnt down the White House after war was declared over." She laughed at me.

"I have to say Bella, I'm impressed at your ability to hold your own."

She smiled at me and responded cheekily, "And I still say you're a snob who didn't even notice that he'd argued himself in circles. But, I had fun, we should do this again. And you should answer the rest of my questions."

"Honestly Bella, I'm not sure what you're implying, but I went to the store to pick up some soap and shampoo. Hunting is dirty business and I don't really enjoy being covered in mud and dried blood any more than I have to. As for why I …did what I did to you…" I ducked my head in shame, "I know that it was wrong. I'm sorry, ok? I was bored, pissed off, and feeling sorry for myself, so I thought I would have a little fun and cheer myself up. I didn't know it was you. I thought you were just some random stranger, who was feeling a bit sad and a bit horny and I decided I could probably help with the latter which usually helps fix the former."

The spark faded from her eyes as her smile slowly fell. She leaned forward and curled in on herself again. "So you're saying it's a coincidence that of all the grocery stores, in all the towns, in all the worlds, you walk into mine."

"Still a fan of the classics I see."

"What can I say, Casablanca is a good film, and Humphrey Bogart was not a bad looking man." She cracked the tiniest of smiles at this, and then returned to her serious expression.

"Yes, I guess it was a giant coincidence. It's a small world I suppose."

"Well, Jasper, I am surprised to say that I'm glad we crossed paths. It's good to see you again, I didn't think it would be. Honestly I really haven't ever put much thought into seeing you again since I hardly knew you back in Forks…but if that's the way you greet all your old friends, we should part ways and meet up again." She laughed lightly, and I could feel a trickle of lust wash through her, no doubt in memory of our encounter at the Safeway.

"I…" I paused, unsure how to continue, and took a deep, unnecessary breath. I was hit by the powerful and mouth-watering scent of her arousal, and I could feel my eyes darkening as my pants grew uncomfortably tight. I slowly got up from my perch on the recliner, and stalked across the room towards her. I knelt down in front of the couch, and put a finger under her chin, lifting her head so I could look into her eyes.

"Bella, I…"

I was cut off by her mouth meeting mine, her lips soft but insistent, pushing against my cold hard ones. She smelled like peaches and sweet peas, and she tasted like sin. I moaned into her mouth, and moved my hand from under her chin around her neck to gently hold the back of her head, while the other hand wrapped around her waist, drawing her towards the edge of the couch. I was kneeling on the floor in front of her, her legs spread, feet resting on either side of my hips, and from this position I could feel the heat of her arousal as I pulled her closer to my body.

I reluctantly released her lips so that she could take a much needed breath, but continued the assault on her body with my lips and tongue. My hand, which had been resting on her back, had slipped under the thin fabric of her shirt, and as if it had a mind of its own, it has started slowly pushing up the fabric, revealing a vast expanse of delicious, tanned and toned skin. I could almost taste the sun on her as I licked my way across her jaw, and left open mouth kisses along her neck. I lingered over the pulse point where I could feel her thick jugular throbbing with her lifeblood, as my hands came around to her front and began massaging her breasts gently. I could feel myself applying pressure, licking the skin where her pulse vibrated wildly, savouring the warmth and imagining the taste of her sweet blood.

I felt more than heard her gasp, as her heart rate sped up, and I immediately pulled myself back. I was so startled by my actions that I propelled myself backwards and ended up sitting on my ass sprawled across the carpet.

"Oh God, Bella, I'm so sorry. I got carried away. I was just…and you're so soft…smell so good." I floundered, at a loss for words, as I tried to explain to this poor girl why I had practically assaulted her. "I'm so sorry Bella, I didn't meant to take advantage of you. You're so sweet, and innocent, and god, I'm such a monster. I wasn't going to bite you, but you must hate me. How can you even look at me, I'm a monster and I've already tried to kill you once, and now here I am assaulting you and trying to take advantage of you and damn near attacking you and...You shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be near me." I was panicking, my eyes darting from her face to her neck to her hands and back to her face again.

"I, god, I mean you were so in love with Edward, and here I am trying to push myself on you when you're probably only talking to me so that I can help you get in contact with him again. Of course you're still in love with him, he's your mate."

I was still struggling to read her emotions when all of a sudden it was like I was smacked in the face with a fistful of anger. No, not just a fistful, it's like someone took a Mack truck, filled it with rage, and smashed into me with it going 120mph. I was glad I was sitting down otherwise the force of her emotions would have knocked me over.

She got up and walked around me, pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table, muttering under her breath while radiating pure white-hot anger. I couldn't quite follow what she was saying, which was surprising given my enhanced hearing, but I caught a few choice words, including fucker, goddamn, and I do believe she said assmonkey. That's an interesting one.

Just as suddenly as she had hit me with her anger, it disappeared as she stopped and twirled to face me.

"You listen to me, Jasper, and you listen good. I don't know whether this is a vampire thing, a man thing, a Cullen thing, or just a STUPID thing…but don't you EVER presume to know what I'm thinking or feeling. You may be an empath, but you are also apparently a fucking idiot."

She took a deep breath, and spoke again in a calmer tone. "I know you weren't going to bite me, you would never forgive yourself if you did. I may not have known you well, Jasper, but I know you well enough to know that you're not going to hurt me intentionally. What was it Doucheward used to say…_sampling the bouquet without tasting the wine_? Yeah, I get it, I smell fucking good. I've got hot, delicious, thick blood pounding through my veins. I'm like chocolate to a fat kid when it comes to you vamps, but in this analogy you're a diabetic and you know better, so I'm not concerned." She paused again, and suddenly her anger was back.

"I don't know why the fuck I bother with you freaking asshats. You fuckers are all the same, always know what's best for me, always making assumptions about the kind of person I am, what I want, and you know what? You're wrong. You have no idea how wrong you are. Fuck this. No, fuck YOU. You don't get to suddenly appear in my life and act like you know me, or what is going on. You…"

I swear, steam was going to come out of her ears she was so angry. I was honestly a little surprised at her anger; I expected fear and revulsion but not anger, though I suppose I deserved it. I tried to push some calm at her, concerned that she might burst a blood vessel or rupture something with how red her face was becoming.

"Bella, I'm sorry, please calm down." I tried to sound soothing; honestly, I was a little afraid of her wrath. If looks could kill, this tiny little spitfire would have razed me to the ground by now.

"You did not just try to calm me down. Jasper, please tell me you did not just try to manipulate me." She seethed at me as the calm I was pushing at her seemed to ripple off the surface of her mind.

"I…"

"I'm out of here. I suppose it was nice seeing you Jasper. If you ever pull your head out of your ass maybe we can have another chat, but until then stay the fuck out of my life." She grabbed her purse and began striding towards the door as I quickly scrambled to my feet. I gently grabbed her arm and spun her around to face me.

"Wait, Bella, I'm sorry. Let me drive you home, or at least back to your truck." I pleaded with her, for some reason I felt really uncomfortable letting her just storm off on her own. I lived in a fairly populated neighbourhood, which was unusual for a vampire, but I liked my home. I didn't, however, feel it was safe for her to be wandering around, alone, at night, in an unfamiliar area.

"Jasper, you will let go of my arm, now." Her words were deadly calm, but laced with an eerie and threatening undertone. I couldn't help but comply, and I loosened my hold on her upper arm and let my hand drop to my side.

"Look, Bella, I understand you are pissed off at me, but its not safe for you to wander around here at night."

She looked me straight in the eyes and laughed, a deep belly laugh. "What, I roll with vampires but I'm supposed to be afraid of the neighbourhood watch? Jesus, Jasper, what is it with you vampires and being so overbearingly overprotective? Get fucked. My ride will be waiting outside for me anyway."

She spun around and walked out my door into the evening, just as a shiny black soft-top convertible late 60's Camaro pulled up to the curb in front of my house, a monstrosity of chrome and leather with darkly tinted windows and the convertible top closed, despite the balmy weather.

Bella skipped down the path and climbed quickly into the passenger seat, looking over her shoulder briefly before slamming the door before I could get a look at the driver. How the fuck did they know where she was? I hadn't seen her make any calls or send any messages.

"Don't you say one motherfucking word, don't even open your mouth. I don't want to hear it!"

I could hear her berating the driver, who only chuckled lowly in response, while the car pulled away from the curb. I stood on my front lawn, staring after the car with a mixture of curiosity and confusion as it drove down to the end of my block. Just as the car began to turn the corner, music started blaring from the interior.

_And when I get that feeling, I want sexual healing…_

"You ass!" I could hear Bella's throaty giggle, accompanied by a sharp smacking noise, and then a growl.

"Damnit woman, go easy on me! You're gonna fuck up my hair!"

As the car disappeared down the next street, I couldn't help but wonder why that second voice sounded so familiar. I turned around to head back inside and only then did I realise that my belt was loose and my pants were halfway undone.

Oh.

* * *

Things I never expected to wiki while writing Twilight fanfiction: The Civil War, Butterflies, Descartes, Casablanca, and (just for fun) vaginal douche.

If any of the crap I've spouted about evolution, history, revisionism, or America is offensive to you... well grow a sense of humour, but I'm not being intentionally offensive either way. If any of what I saw is inaccurate, well vampires and people can't be perfect all the time, and I'll chalk it up to endearing imperfections in Bella and Jasper's personalities as opposed to any shortcomings on my account.

On Cars:

And a couple weeks ago, I was chatting with some h00rs and their husbands online, and all the men told me that Camaros are pussy cars, and that we should have had a Charger or a classic Porsche. I say fuck you, Camaros make me damp. Plus, they are almost affordable.

I had a long internal debate on this car, and if I wasn't such eco hippy, Peter would be getting the car of his dreams:

_I'm gonna get myself a 1967 Cadillac Eldorado convertible, hot pink, with whale skin hubcaps and all leather cow interior and big brown baby seal eyes for headlights. Yeah! And I'm gonna drive around in that baby at 115 miles an hour, getting 1 mile per gallon, sucking down quarter pounder cheeseburgers from McDonald's in the old-fashioned non- biodegradable Styrofoam containers!_

Only, without the eating of the McDonalds, because obviously, Peter is a vampire, but its the spirit of the point. Yeah, sadly I was out at karaoke, and this song came on, and after I finished laughing and cheering, I thought of Peter.

But I couldn't do it, because climate change is bad mmkay.

This is a terrible Authors Notes!

One other thing to mention, I've joined forces with the twi-muses blog (www (dot) twimuses (dot) com) as their new affiliate pimp. It's a pretty cool site, and if you want to affiliate with these fine ladies, or you are already are an affiliate and are interested in me writing a piece on how awesome you are, let me know!

And thanks to everyone who voted in the Hidden Star Awards!


	4. Chapter 4

**Dark Temptation**

Sorry for the slight delay, I was originally going to say I tried to post earlier and FF fail fucked it up, but truth be told, I just didn't finish it in time. Fortunately for you, I went through a bottle of my favourite Riesling last night, and the second half of this chapter is a direct result of that.

You should all give massive thanks to **Leelan Oleander** for fixing all my fuckups in this. Hey, did you know that when writing dialogue, you are supposed to put a comma before a person's name? I didn't… she just taught me this. "Hey, Leelan, how'd you get so smart?"

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 4**

**BPOV**

I slumped further down in the seat as we raced away from Jasper's house, relief and frustration battling for the dominant position in the twisted clusterfuck that was my current state of mind. After a brief skirmish played out via a sometimes disturbing internal dialogue, relief emerged the victor with the concession that frustration could have its time in the spotlight soon.

"I know I won't always feel this way, so you might want to pay attention here." I took a deep breath as Peter looked over at me from the driver's seat, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

"Ok, so I usually hate your Yoda shit, and I guess I should be nicer about it, because today I really, really appreciate it. Thank you for showing up when you did, because I really needed you."

Peter opened his mouth to respond, but I quickly cut him off by placing my hand over his mouth.

"But!" I interjected, "this doesn't mean that you don't annoy the everloving shit out of me with your 'gift' most of the time. It just means thank you."

I could feel Peter's smile against my hand so I slowly withdrew it, leaned over and gave him a brief but awkward hug across the centre console. As I reclined back into my seat, I could see the emotions flickering across this face as he seemingly thought about what to say, which, truth be told, would be a first.

"Honestly, MJ, my 'gift', as you call it, pisses me off most of the time too, but the annoying part? That's all me." He grinned widely and winked at me as I laughed, nodding my head in his direction to acknowledge the truth in his statement.

My mind wandered back to the first discussion we'd had about the classification of his gift, ability, whatever you want to call it. It was also when he coined the nickname MJ, short for Myth Junkie as a tip of the hat to my involvement in the world of mythological creatures. It was apt, considering the scars, both physical and mental, that have resulted from that involvement.

~o~o~

We were sitting in a bar in Memphis and Peter had been mockingly berating me for my underage drinking when without even looking, he moved my beer just in time for me to watch a little blue pill land on the table precisely where my bottle had previously been sitting. I looked up to see the retreating form of Brett, a frat boy with a hell of a bad reputation with women. Peter leaned over, apologised for shaking up my beer and told me that he figured that I'd prefer my beer roofie-free, before getting up and walking across the bar towards Brett and his friends.

When he returned to our table after putting 'the fear of God' into the group of Kappa Alpha douchebags who had been egging Brett on, I asked him how he knew.

"I just knew," he shrugged at me as if it was no big deal.

At this point in time, I barely knew him and I was still understandably unsure of our burgeoning relationship. I wasn't confident that I could trust my new human-drinking friends, despite the efforts that he and Char had gone to for me. I was fairly certain that he had no plans to snack on me, since he'd had plenty of opportunity to do so with no witnesses, but I still couldn't wrap my head around why he had decided to take me under his wing.

"So what, you can read minds? See the future? Are you one of those 'gifted' vampires?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "No, I don't consider myself to be gifted… well, perhaps in other areas…" He waved his hand in the general direction of his crotch and I had had to stifle my laughter in an attempt to be serious.

His serious expression returned and he continued his explanation, "It's just intuition. I know shit." Peter shrugged and smiled at me like there was nothing to it.

I took a sip of my beer and considered what he was saying. "You really don't consider yourself to have a gift or an ability…so what, the gods speak to you like the Voodoo priests and priestesses in New Orleans?"

"Voodoo? Really?" He raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged, fiddling with the label on my bottle as I avoided his gaze.

"When I was younger, my mother went through one of her spiritual phases, and she took us to see a voodooienne in the French Quarter. This woman looked like she was possessed, and she told me many truths, including that I would meet demons disguised as angels. She told me to guard my heart and my mind, but keep my eyes open." I took another sip of my beer and watched his face to see what his reaction would be.

"You know, I never put much stock in it, but after I fled Forks I began to accept that maybe she was right. I went back, seeking a new fortune I suppose. I couldn't find the same woman, so I visited a few others and found that few proclaiming to practice the art were genuine, but I still have faith in the magicks. She- the old woman- she told me that the gods spoke to her, they did not tell her the past, or the future, they simply told her what she needed to know."

"Wow, vampires, shape shifters and Voodoo priestesses? You really are a Myth Junkie aren't you?" He smiled at me, and so was born the nickname MJ.

We never did resolve whether Peter's gift was related to the magicks that the Voodoo priestess had practiced. I'm not sure if he even knows, but he claims to have no control over it, unlike traditional vampire abilities. Char told me once that he is not sure whether it was something that had been present in his human life, but it would be surprising if he would even remember, as those memories become so vague after the change.

~o~o~

I was brought back to the present by Peter's hand on my shoulder. We had arrived home and he was waiting beside the open passenger door for me to snap back into reality.

"What are you thinking about so hard, pumpkin?"

I tried to shrug while untangling myself from the seatbelt. "Oh you know, the usual. Life, the universe and everything."

Peter smiled down at me as we walked up the pathway to the front door.

"Oh!" I squeaked, "We should go pick up my truck, I left it in the Safeway parking lot earlier." I suddenly realised that all my frozen goods would be slowly spoiling in the summer heat. Good bye Ben, good bye Jerry, good bye funky yet delicious monkey...

"No worries. It has been overcast all afternoon so I picked it up for you earlier." Char's smiling face appeared in the hallway as Peter ushered me through the door, and I rushed forward to envelope her in a not-very-warm, but heartfelt hug.

"Thank you, Char, you're the best sister a girl could ever ask for." I buried my face in her cool embrace as I allowed the days events to catch up with me.

I'm not as emotional and weak as I used to be back when I lived in Forks, but being thrust unceremoniously back into one of the most heart-wrenching periods of your past will do a number on even the most callous bitch. I sniffed quietly, trying to hold back the tears as I extricated myself from Char's arms.

"Sweet Pea, how are you holding up?" I felt Peter's hand on the small of my back as he ushered me into the living room. Before I even realised she had moved, Char appeared in front of me with what looked like a fresh G&T.

"Oh, sweet nectar of the gods! I will feel so much better once at least two of these are in me." I reclined into the couch, hugging my knees close to my chest and sipping reverently at my drink, savouring the subtle hint of fresh lime underlying the awesomeness that was the joyous intermingling of gin and tonic.

I smiled despite the tense situation, remembering the fun Char and I had when I tried to teach her how to make drinks. She had grown up in a different and much drier culture than I; her parents having been good God-fearing Baptists in the Deep South. From what she remembers, her parents didn't drink, and with the exception of a bottle of whisky being shared between men on poker night, neither did the rest of her community.

~o~o~

Charlotte had been understandably reserved when I entered her and Peter's lives and home. For some strange reason, after overcoming my initial shock, I had automatically trusted Peter upon first encountering him, but I hadn't opened up to either of them yet. Charlotte was wary of accepting the unknown and putting herself and her mate in danger through association with a human who knew of their kind.

Despite Peter's assurance that everything would work out for the best, we remained cautious of each other, and I knew that it weighed heavy on the usually jovial man that the 'two best ladies in his life' were unable to trust or bond with each other.

I had come home from classes one day to find every inch of counter in our kitchen covered in a wide variety of alcohol, mixes, glasses of all shapes and sizes, and even an honest-to-god Jimmy Buffett Margaritaville blender. I immediately assumed that Peter was up to something, but I was shocked when I walked further into the kitchen to see Char standing by the counter with anticipation written clearly across her face.

"What the –"

My exclamation was cut off by the frantic and excited ramblings of what I could only assume was Charlotte channelling her inner Alice.

"I know, I know. I went a bit overboard… but I got excited and ….." The rest of her words were completely unintelligible to me as she continued her explanation at vampire speed. I held a hand up and pleaded mentally for her to take a breath so I could get a word in.

"Ok, Charlotte… Would you care to explain to me, at human speed, why our kitchen looks like an alcoholic's wet dream?"

She gave me a funny look for my choice of words, but started speaking more slowly, and gave me her explanation for the cornucopia of alcohol and accessories.

"Look, I know that we don't really…get along, and I think we can both tell that it really bothers Peter. I thought maybe if we tried to do something together, we could bond and get to know each other better, and maybe things will get easier." She looked at me with such desperation in her eyes and I could tell that she wasn't just doing this for Peter. She genuinely wanted us to connect the same way that we both connected with Peter, and I couldn't help but agree with her wishes.

"I tried to think about things that you might like doing, but most of your time is spent either reading or studying… and those aren't really group activities. So then I thought, well you're a college student, and college students stereotypically like to drink a lot, but I've never really seen you have more than a beer. I decided maybe we could learn how to make drinks and figure out what you like to drink. I never drank alcohol in my human life; nobody in my family did, so I thought that maybe this could be something that we learn about together." She was wringing her hands together nervously, as if genuinely concerned about my possible rejection. I looked over the array of alcohol and couldn't help but be touched by her gesture.

"I think I'd like that, Charlotte, but where the fuck do we start?"

Char pulled out a book on mixology she had picked up, and we started bonding, giggling over silly drink names, and then eventually giggling just for the sake of it. We discovered that while they all tasted terrible to her, some drinks smelt really appealing to Char, so we would make G&Ts or martinis, and she would sniff them while I drank them. As the night wore on we became progressively sillier, and the drinks we made became progressively stranger, and stronger.

It wasn't until far later that evening that we truly bonded as sisters though. Peter had walked in the door to find empty and half-empty bottles everywhere, spilled drinks on every conceivable surface, including the ceiling, and Char and I in hysterics on the kitchen floor.

"Hey, Big Poppa P," we sang out in unison, causing another round of giggles to burst forth.

"What are you two doing?" He asked with an indulgent smile, obviously happy to see the two of us laughing together.

Char picked up a glass of Sex On The Beach and waved it around in the air as she started explaining to Peter, "I was just telling little sis here about the time you were convinced that Elvis was alive and playing at the Rio Grande as an impersonator."

She grinned up at him as he groaned, obviously not looking forward to the story. "You see he had heard about this really great show… and Garret told him that he could have sworn that he smelt the real Elvis at the show. So Peter goes backstage before the performance, bouncing around like a pig in mud, he's so exited to meet this guy-" Her story was interrupted by another fit of giggles before she continued.

"Just picture it, he walks up and sticks his hand out and says 'It's a real honour to meet you sir', in this high pitched little fangirl squeal, and around turns the ugliest-ass woman I have ever seen, and she says, 'It's always nice to meet a fan, little girl'"

Char gets up to start acting out her story amid uproarious laughter and then we all stare, shocked, as she falls flat on her ass with a little 'oomph'. She is so surprised her mouth forms a little 'O' and she turns to me with wide eyes and moans.

"Why is the world all spinny?"

And that was when we discovered that I can get vampires drunk.

~o~o~

I was brought out of my memories by a cold hand prying my now empty glass out of my hands and replacing it with a full one. I smiled up at Char and hummed my appreciation as I took a sip of my fresh drink, once again savouring the tang of the lemon and the refreshing bite of the gin.

"Thanks, babe, I think I'm ready to talk now."

Peter came over and picked me up before settling me back into his lap, and Char curled up next to us on the couch, surrounding me in the love and support of my new family.

"Ok, MJ, do you want to start by filling us in on what happened? All I knew is that you would need a ride from some house in the 'burbs. I was really shocked to see you there with Jasper… and especially smelling the way you did."

My cheeks burned with an uncharacteristic blush, one of the many traits of my youth that I had grown out of, mostly. The annoying part of living with vampires was their supersensitive sense of smell. Last year when I had a stomach flu, they had the entire house full of scented candles… it was, awkward to say the least.

"I'm sorry, guys. Nothing happened, not really. Well, something almost happened, but then it didn't…" I broke off with a sigh, and then told them the whole story.

"I was at the Safeway, and I guess I was feeling a bit shitty. As much as I love you guys, sometimes our situation gets me down. I still feel like I'm missing some important part of my life, and I can't figure it out. So, I was just minding my own business when I started feeling really aroused, like, uh…" I broke off again, needing a sip of my drink to calm my nerves so I could continue my story.

"Anyway, I guess Jasper must have picked up on my mood and he…uhh, ." I rushed out and then paused while my husband and his mate started laughing uproariously.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, guys. It was fucking embarrassing as hell; satisfying yes, but oh gods, I started fondling the fruit, and moaning…and then you called, Peter, and it helped me clear my head a bit. By that point I had realised that it must have been Jasper, because I really don't find fresh fruit that appealing, and then…" I buried my face in my hands again as my body continued to shake from the vibrations of Peter's laughter.

"Did I even hang up on you before I had my incredibly loud and public orgasm?" I peeked out from between my fingers to try to tell if Peter was lying to me.

"Yeah, you did, but damn did I wish you hadn't!"

SMACK

"Thanks, sis, he deserved that." I smiled smugly as Peter rubbed the back of his head and glared half-heartedly at her.

"No problem, babe, so d'ya wanna tell us the rest?"

"That depends, sugar, d'ya wanna refill my drink?" I cooed sweetly at her, batting my eyelashes for good measure. She rolled her eyes, but disappeared and returned with a fresh drink for me in a flash.

"Mmm.. Thanks. So, I approached him, and called him out on what he did, and I maybe egged him on a little." I looked down at my lap while I admitted this. I know our situation is unconventional and likely temporary, but I still feel like today's events were a betrayal to these two amazing creatures. Peter rubbed my back and Char took my free hand, encouraging me to continue.

"We ended up back at his place, and things were going well. We talked for a bit. I never really knew Jasper before, you know? He was the 'weak link' in the family, and was always kept away from me." I noticed Char and Peter exchange a look at it, but decided to worry about that later and continued on with my story.

"It was really great, I mean, he's actually a really cool guy, and I think everyone underestimates him. For him to have gone through what you guys told me about, and come out the man he is today, that takes a lot more strength than anyone gives him credit for. We ended up making out a bit, and then he went and fucked it all up. That stupid ass started treating me the same way HE did." The transition from pleasant memories of his tongue in my mouth, to absolute rage nearly gave me whiplash. Peter squeezed me lightly as I finished my third drink of the evening.

Char returned with another drink for me and I continued my ranting and raving. "Do you know, he actually had the audacity to TELL me that I was still in love with that douchebag? That I'm innocent, and fragile. I swear to god, it must be a Cullen thing. 'Poor little Bella Swan, wouldn't want her feet to get dirty in the real world, lets put her up on this pedestal'" I mocked angrily. "Because that worked out so well in the past!"

I jumped off of Peter's lap and started pacing frantically back and forth in front of the coffee table. "I mean, I get it. Me human, you vampire. Big strong man protect little girl," I caught a glimpse of Char smirking at me as my tirade continued, and I knew I was being a little ridiculous, but at this point I really didn't care. I just needed to vent, and I knew they would enjoy the show.

"I'm not a freaking little girl. I mean god, they just made all these assumptions about me. She's Edward's mate, she must be so sweet and innocent and fragile. She must be protected and revered, and lets buy her fancy things. I mean I get that Edward wasn't used to having to get to know people the 'normal' way, since he could just read their minds, but the rest of the family? They just assumed they knew who I was, sorry, they knew who Edward's mate was. And then, when the weak fragile little human does exactly what weak fragile humans do, bleed, they all freak out and run away!" I was shouting by this point, and I could hear the ice cubes clinking in my once again empty glass as I practically shook with my rage.

"And now Jasper waltzes back into my life like nothing is the matter, and treats me exactly like they did? Out of all of them, I would have expected better of Jasper." I paused, an idea suddenly popped into my head that I simply couldn't shake, and I stared over at Peter hoping he could calm my nerves.

"Peter, why is Jasper here? Did they send him? I'm so tired of this. I just want them out of my life. Is that so much to ask? 'A clean break' he promised me, but first the hospital, then college, and now this." I started to get dizzy, and the world was spinning slowly around me. I realised that Char must have been making me some rather strong drinks to get me to open up to them, but I had been guzzling them down like water and I was apparently well into tipsy, but not quite at drunk yet.

Char got up and walked over, surrounding me with her cold embrace and whispering into my hair.

"It's ok, babe, I've got you, we've got you. You don't have to face him if you don't want to. He's a fucking pussy and he wouldn't stand a chance against either of us."

I snorted at that, Edward thought he was so above everyone because of his mind reading. He honestly believed no one could best him in a fight, but he didn't understand that seasoned fighters acted on instinct alone; their bodies moving of their own accord, disconnected from higher thought. In a fight with a soldier, with a real warrior like either Peter or Char, he was a pre-pubescent boy trying to play at being a real man.

"Thanks, sweets, I needed that laugh. Seriously though, I know Jasper is your friend, but I'm not ready to trust him." Char nodded at my words, and I turned to face Peter, levelling him with my 'bitchface' as he called it.

"I know you have this grand plan, Peter, and I know he is part of it, but I also know that you are not telling me everything. Not right now, but soon, you will tell me what you are hiding from me, and I will probably have Charlotte kick you in the balls for me. However, for the time being, I'm tired, and a little tipsy, and apparently I smell… so I'm going to go have a shower." I turned around and headed up the stairs, calling over my shoulder to Char. "Make sure the little fucker behaves himself while I'm gone… oh and order me a pizza, please?"

Now was a good time to reflect on what led to my mini-meltdown. As I turned on the shower to heat up the water and stripped out of my clothes, I decided it was a combination of pig-headed chauvinistic men who pushed my buttons and high quality gin. Not an unusual combination for me, really.

I sighed and stepped under the stream of hot water, and felt my muscle slowly relaxing and releasing the tension from the day. I really wasn't ready to deal with the Cullens, but at the same time I was sick of letting my past rule my life. First love is supposed to be just that, first, perhaps the first of many.

I was truly devastated when Edward left me in the woods that night so many years ago. I was devastated because I couldn't believe the man that I loved and the family who had treated me as one of their own could turn their backs on me so callously and coldly. It didn't take me long to figure out that in Edward's twisted, immature reasoning, he had left me for my own good and while it pissed me right the fuck off, I understood. Edward was a martyr by nature, he was a protector and he couldn't handle the fact that he couldn't protect me from his own family so he tried to be selfless by denying his own happiness and leaving me to live a safe and normal life. Of course, he went about it in the cruellest and most self-centred way possible, but that's just Edward for you, dismissive of anyone else's concerns.

I've tried to move on with my life, but the problem is that he didn't just lie when he said he didn't love me anymore, or that I wasn't good enough for him. He lied to me when he promised me a clean break, and I don't want someone in my life that could treat me that way, and he really doesn't know how to take a hint.

I was interrupted from my musings on all the ways Edward had broken his promises by the sound of my cell phone ringing from somewhere on the floor. As was I digging through my pile of dirty clothes, I saw Peter sweep into the room and land on the bed with a bounce, sporting my cell phone in his hands.

"Hello, Dandie, Dandie, fine as candy" He grinned at me as he answered the call from Danielle, one of the girls who worked at the bar.

"Sure, I'll see if I can find her for you." He handed me the phone and whispered over to me. "I think they need you to work tonight, are you feeling up to it?" He shot me a worried glance as I nodded quickly and brought the phone up to my ear.

"Hey, Dani, what's up?"

"Hi, MJ, I hate to do this to you, but Stef called in sick and it's just me and Lee here, and it's going to be a busy night, could you possibly come in to work?" I sighed, for some reason, Peter had declared that at the bar I should be known as MJ and as usual I went along with his weird ideas; he hadn't steered me wrong yet.

"Yeah, Dani, that's fine. I need to eat first and get ready; can you and Lee manage for another hour?" I liked Danielle, she was a sweet girl who truly enjoyed her job. She also doubled as our publicist due a combination of her sharp wit and her skills with a camera. She always joked that when her tips or tits started to drop, she'd become a professional photographer, and I often wished that she would. She had such talent, and it was wasted at our little bar.

"I think we can manage, MJ, but the sooner the better." I knew that meant they were really hurting, and so I quickly confirmed to her that I would be there as soon as I could and hung up the phone.

"Hey, Char! I'm in a bit of a hurry, would you mind coming up and helping me with my hair?" I called down the stairs for reinforcements; sometimes living with two vampires has its perks. Dropping my robe, I walked into the closet and grabbed some underwear, a bra, and one of my little black cocktail dresses.

I ignored Peter's whistles and rude comments as I slipped on my underwear and held the dress up in front of the mirror. Bronze detailing accented the neck and the hem of the dress, with asymmetrical stitching breaking up the monotony and adding a little bit of modernity and spice to the otherwise classic and boring garment.

"I think this will do for today," I nodded at myself in the mirror, and hopped onto the bathroom counter as Char buzzed around me drying my hair and applying make up for me. She handed me a slice of pizza to munch on as she started the tedious process of pinning up my hair. Finishing my second slice of pizza, I leaned over to wash my hands in the sink and received a flick to the ear for 'disrupting her process'.

"I think you're good to go, babe; I'll zip up the dress for you if you'll pick out some shoes."

Smiling, I quickly hugged Char, grabbing a coat, my purse and a large box containing the rest of my work 'uniform' and rushed out the door.

"Thanks guys, I'll see you later. Will you be stopping by later tonight?"

Peter got a strange gleam in his eye that filled me with dread. "No, darling wife of mine, I think me and the mistress are going to go defile your kitchen again."

"Damn it, Peter! I told you to keep your fuckery out of the kitchen! Oh, and don't forget to show her that new thing with your tongue…"

With a giggle and a wave, I hopped into my truck and headed off to work.

* * *

Thanks for reading ladies! Thanks for all the alerts and favourites and reviews I get throughout the week. They make me smile when the rest of my life is conspiring to make me bash my brains in. And thanks to dandiegoose, mzbionic and leelan oleander for letting me use them as characters, even if dandie was the only one who knew about this ahead of time.

Another round of what did I wiki here: colleges (for next chapter), fraternities, secret societies, roofies, and voodoo. Did you know there are apparently differences between Dominican/Haitian voodoo and Louisiana voodoo? I didn't.

If you are looking for a really cool book on voodoo, well actually it's about zombies in the Dominican Republic, check out **The Rainbow and the Serpent** by **Wade Davis**. It's not fanfiction, it's a real, non-fiction book about zombies. It's awesome.

I should give you some pimp here, so first off have you been reading **Around the Bend** by **Leelan Oleander**? It's the sequel to her story Encore, and its an AH story with the usual gang facing the challenges of growing up and overcoming the struggles that life gives them. There is also a moose named Chocolate, jsyk. And if you are in the mood for the stupidest piece of crackfic I've ever seen, check out **Danza Mania **by **mzbionic**. I may or may not have contributed a POV to her second chapter, and inspired the horror that was the first chapter. I've heard rumours of a third chapter, but I've also heard rumours of the apocalypse…

And for some seasonal fun, **Breath-of-twilight** is posting the **Countdown-to-Halloween** with 31 oneshots from 31 authors, and a massive collab piece full of halloween-y goodness.

In other news, my first post as the affiliate pimp with the **Twimuses** blog should be going up this weekend (www . twimuses . com). I cornered cullen818 and got the dirt on Jasper's Naughty Girls blog.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dark Temptation**

As usual, massive thanks to **Leelan Oleander **for being the PB to my Jelly, the Mac to my Cheese. Are you reading Around The Bend yet? You should be, it's fantastic.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 5**

**BPOV**

"_We've been spending most our lives  
Living in an Amish paradise  
I've churned butter once or twice  
Living in an Amish paradise"_

Ugh! Asshole!

I had been driving down the mostly deserted road on the outskirts of town humming along to the music playing until I realised what exactly I was listening to. I hastily hit the eject button on my CD player and flung the disc across the bench seat of my truck toward the passenger side, where it bounced and settled somewhere between the seat and the door. Fucker thinks he's so clever, at least he got over his 'rickrolling' phase.

A few years back, I had been checking my email and followed a link sent by one of the girls I was working on a project with, when my ears were suddenly assaulted by the sultry crooning of none other than Rick Astley. As I hurled insults at my computer and the dumb bimbo who thought it was funny to 'rickroll' me, Peter strolled into the room and demanded to know what was going on. Much to my and Char's chagrin, the next 6 months had been full of Peter's attempts to 'rickroll' us. I drew the line when he rigged the damn doorbell to start playing 'Never Gonna Give You Up' instead of a bell noise, like normal people.

Char and I were forced to retaliate by hiding little animatronic Chucky dolls all over the house. For some reason, the big, bad vampire was absolutely terrified by talking dolls, something which was apparently heightened by the viewing of that movie. Every time he'd destroy them all, we'd bring new ones into the house. I was glad when he finally got the hint, ridiculously rich vampire husband or not, those fuckers were expensive.

Bringing myself back to the present with a smile on my face, I reached into the console and grabbed the mix CD I'd created for getting me in the right frame of mind for a night at the bar. Slipping it into the slot on the dash, I smiled to myself while turning onto the highway. We lived about 30 minutes out of the city, which was sometimes a pain in the ass, but mostly a relief. It was also a serious necessity when your companions sparkled like disco balls in the sun. For the most part, I enjoyed not having to worry about neighbours, and having a decent sized property, unlike the tiny little lots that littered most suburbs.

_Are you going to take me home today _

_Ah, down beside that red firelight_

_Are you gonna let it all hang out_

"Fat bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round!" I sang along with one of my all-time favourite songs, feeling my enthusiasm towards a night of serving drinks to horny men and fake women start to rise. I loved my job for the most part, but some days it took me a little something extra to get me into the right frame of mind to do it well and enjoy myself while doing it. Customers can smell a fake smile or false enthusiasm a mile away, and it reflects in your tips, which ultimately is reflected in the establishment's bottom line. Happy staff make for happy customers, make for a happy bank account. I didn't care so much about the bank account, but I did care about running a successful business, and Electric Mud, my bar, was my baby.

~o-o~

After graduating from college I had floundered for a few months about what to do with my life while Peter, Char and I toured the country in my old beat-up Chevy. That truck had been a gift from my father when I moved to Forks to live with him, and I had cherished it deeply, dragging it with me from Washington, then down to Florida, and on to Tennessee for college. I knew it was on its last legs, so we decided to take it for one last hurrah before it sputtered out and died a final death. It finally conked out one muggy evening on the outskirts of Issaquena County, Mississippi.

When we realized that there was no rescuing my poor old Chevy, we hiked - or rather Peter and Char hiked while I hung on Peter's back - to an old blues bar about 5 miles up the road. It must have been providence when we walked into that smoky little shack full of people of all ages just relaxing, unwinding and enjoying a cool drink and some hot music on a Friday night. As soon as we crossed the threshold, I knew I had my idea. Peter smiled down over me and squeezed my hand and I walked up to the bar and ordered one bourbon, one scotch and one beer. The bartender eyed me strangely, but I just smiled and gestured to my companions with a tilt of my head, where Peter had settled down with his boots up on the table and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Peter and Charlotte looked completely at ease in this setting, whether it was a reminder of home, the deep soul of the blues band that was playing in a corner, or just the mellow atmosphere, I had finally found somewhere that they fit in. My heart swelled for them, and I realised that this was something I could sell. Dim lighting, dark wood, brass fittings on the tarnished bar and a well-polished mirror sitting behind the rows of bottles gave the place a gritty, authentic atmosphere. Despite the low-key ambiance, this place stocked a good range of mid- to high-end liquor. Instead of the cheap beers you would expect to see people in a town this size, people were sitting around sipping on fine whiskies, and drinks that were mixed with something other than coke.

There was a certain type of person who would be at home in a place like this, and that was the type of person I wanted to do business with. We stayed in that town for a week, and went to the same blues bar every night. While outwardly I was relaxing and enjoying the atmosphere, inwardly I was cataloguing everything, thinking about how I could adapt this concept to a bigger city in the northern states. On our last night, I approached the bartender, a big beast of a gap-toothed old man named Sonny; I had learned from our time here that he was the owner.

I told him my plan and asked if he had any advice. He looked me up and down, grabbed two glasses, and poured a liberal serving of Woodford Reserve Four Grain bourbon into each. Pushing one of the glasses across the bar towards me, he lifted the other and we clinked glasses in a silent cheers.

As I savoured the bourbon, Sonny cleared his throat and leaned towards to impart his wisdom.

"I don't got much advice to give ya, because either ya'll can make it, or you can't. But, I will give you one important piece of advice that will serve you well. Put your bar in your husband's name." I opened my mouth to retort to his statement and he waved me off with a flick of his wrist.

"Now I ain't saying there is much a man can do that a woman can't, and running a bar certainly ain't one of those things, but everyone from the liquor licensing board, through your distributors and your competition will make your life ten times harder than they would make his. That there husband of yours, he looks like he could kill a man without breakin' a sweat; people is gonna be too intimidated of him to give you a hard time, and your business will prosper as a result."

I nodded as I thought over what he said, it left a bitter taste in my mouth to give title of my baby to someone else, but I could see what he was saying.

"More'n that, make the bar into somewhere you would want to be, and you'll get the kind of clientele you want to be doin' business with. And don't ever stop working the bar, no matter how big your business gets, take some time to serve drinks, chat with your patrons, and interact with your staff."

Sonny smiled at me as he tipped back the last of his drink. "Now I reckon I've got some thirsty folk waitin' on me, so I wish you the best of luck and enjoy your evening ma'am."

I gave Sonny a little wave in thanks as I turned to rejoin Peter and Char at the table. We spent the rest of the evening talking over plans, figuring out where to go next. The next morning, we hitched a ride into Greensville and I bought myself a new truck; well, it was new to me at least. We had the Chevy towed into town so it could be stripped for parts, much to Char's amusement I nearly cried handing the keys over to the grease monkey working the scrap yard.

Despite my somewhat over-dramatic farewell to my old Chevy, I drove out of town feeling light-hearted and optimistic for the first time in a long while. I finally had a direction, a goal in life, and I was looking forward to the future. Even to this day, I'm damn glad I decided to be realistic and take a degree in Business Management, instead of going for the English degree I had always dreamt of. Where is an English degree going to get you; a cushy job as a weekend supervisor at the local Starbucks is where.

~o-o~

I pulled my truck into the small staff parking lot behind Electric Mud, and lit up a cigarette as I cycled to the last track on my CD. It was an eclectic mix, but it always served to remind me why I loved what I was doing, and to amp up my energy and my enthusiasm.

_I gotta feeling_

_That tonight's gonna be a good night_

_That tonight's gonna be a good night_

_That tonight's gonna be a good, good night_

_A feeling…_

As cheesy as this song is, there was something about the rhythm that got my heart pounding and my feet itching to dance. I swayed around the seat of my truck, eyes closed and a smile on my face as the song reached its peak, then I tossed my half-finished cigarette out the window and got busy putting myself together.

I opened up the grey box sitting beside me on the bench and extracted the blonde wig; fitting it carefully over my pinned up hair, I checked the rear view mirror to make sure it was settling right. I looked surprisingly good as a blonde, and with a swipe of some bronze lipstick and a pair of large bronzed hoops, I was ready to work.

Walking in the back door, I was greeted by Dani who was carrying a crate full of bottles from the back room towards the bar. I waved at her as I tossed my purse into my office and followed her up front.

"How are you and Leanne managing so far? Has it been busy?"

Dani huffed as she placed the crate on the floor and started to pull up bottles of whisky, bourbon and other spirits and place them behind the half empty bottles on the shelves.

"Hey, MJ! It hasn't been too bad, but it's still early. The two of us would be fine just covering the floor, but there's no one here mixing drinks so it's slow going, and it'll only get worse as we get more crowded."

I nodded at Dani as I started polishing the tray of clean glasses and putting them away. "Yeah, I can see that. We're getting busier; I'll have to look into getting a permanent bartender instead of having a floater on quiet nights. Sundays usually aren't so bad, but I guess business is picking up for us."

Lee smiled at me from the other side of the bar. "Yeah, you definitely are getting more business, which is great when we have enough staff to cover it."

I frowned at her words, realising that I was pushing my staff too hard. "I'm sorry girls, I'm gonna start looking for some new people to help out soon. If you've got any friends interested in a job here, let me know. I don't want to have to have Peter in here behind the bar; you know how much of a disaster that would be."

"Or even worse, Charlotte. I swear, for all that girl is a ballbuster, a single look at her is enough to make a man lose his brains and do the dumbest shit." Dani laughed at me as she started filling Lee's drinks order, two Tom Collins and a tumbler of 12 year Glen Livet.

Having Char in here was a blast at first, but there was something about the way she looked behind the bar here that just drove men wild and not in a good way. They stopped thinking before they acted and between tastelessly trying to pick Char up, and figuring they could cop a feel of the other barmaids, we figured it was best if Char only came by as a customer. Peter on the other hand, well, he was just Peter and crass might has well have been his first, middle and last name.

"Thanks, girls, for calling me in, I'm sorry it took so long to get here, but you know we live in the middle of freaking nowhere. I talked to Stef, she seems to think she should be back on her feet by tomorrow; poor girl sounds miserable. Don't ever worry about calling me in on my day off, it's my bar, it's my responsibility. Plus, I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving the two of you here on your own at night."

After a quick pep talk with the girls, finding out who was in tonight and dividing up the tables, I started my rounds of the floor. We had about 30 tables and a dozen booths lining the walls, all focussed towards a small stage. On busy nights, we would move the tables closer together and clear a medium sized dance floor in front of the stage, but we weren't really a dance club so it was not a priority for us. The dark curtains surrounding the booths and the deep rich wood of the tables and chairs gave the bar the perfect ambience, since the anti-smoking regulations had passed - banning smoking inside bars, we no longer had the smoky atmosphere, but low lighting helped re-create the illusion. We had set up a small smoking lounge out back with a few tables and a view of the stage from the side, but not many customers lingered out there.

We often had live music playing, but so far we hadn't had enough of a draw on Sundays to bring in a band, though we did often use it as a time slot to audition potential new musicians. As far as I knew, we had no one scheduled for tonight, so we had the stereo on playing some Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker in the background.

I made my rounds of the tables, greeting some regular customers and introducing myself to some new faces. I made an effort to recommend that people try our top shelf liquors and spirits, not because it would profit me, but because it was something that people didn't often do. How often would you get to try a 20 year old single cask Laphroaig whisky, and truthfully, I sold my high end liquors practically at cost and my regulars knew it.

A few hours went by, with me travelling back and forth between the tables and the bar. Dani had settled herself behind the bar to make our drinks so that Lee and I could cover all the tables. It was just busy enough to keep us all moving, but not enough to make us rush. This was the pace I aimed for, as it gave me a chance to chat a little with each table.

While I wandered around my bar, I thought back on my earlier encounter with Jasper. He was one of the Cullens I truthfully didn't mind seeing. I hadn't been close to him in Forks, and even though it could be argued that he was the catalyst for all of them leaving, I truly held no ill will towards him. I had been honest when I told him that I understood that being flooded with the bloodlust of 6 other vampires was a hard burden to bear. I didn't exactly have anything to compare it to, but I could appreciate that it was truly more difficult for him than for anyone else. I also know that things would have ended much more peacefully had Edward not decided to overreact and throw me into a table covered in glass plates.

~o-o~

I had been truly devastated when Edward abandoned me in the woods days later, telling me that I wasn't good for him, that he was tired of pretending. I think what hurt even more than his callous words, was the fact that the family had abandoned me without so much as a phone call to say goodbye. Carlisle and Esme had been like my parents, and Alice was my best friend and sister. That they had just quietly abandoned me hurt worse than I could have imagined. I liked to think that Emmett was opposed to leaving, but he would have been outvoted and given no chance; I truly believed he was my big brother and would have fought to keep me in his life. Rose, well, I was indifferent about her; she hated me and I wasn't terribly fond of her either. I respected her and I was polite to her because there must have been some good in her for Emmett to love her so strongly, but her departure didn't really affect me in any way.

Jasper though, I hadn't given much though to him. I told Carlisle that I forgave Jasper, that there was nothing to forgive, but somehow I doubt that memo was passed on. The only real interaction I had had with him was in Phoenix, and it was under great stress on my part. I didn't know him at all; he was always on the sidelines. I understood that Edward and Alice kept him away from me because they were afraid of his poor control, but I often wondered if they simply underestimated him.

I had often been curious about what had truly happened after Edward drove me home that day, but that curiosity was usually overshadowed by my anger at the events that have unfolded since. I am still outraged that the same man, no, _boy_, who claimed to love me with every part of him; the same boy that I loved so much I was willing to 'sacrifice my soul', could so deliberately destroy me, and act as if it was some great kindness. I understand that he was trying to absolve himself of the guilt of what happened. He was upset that I had been a victim of their vampire nature, and tortured soul that he was, he decided that it was all his responsibility.

I always knew that there were risks involved in hanging out with vampires, but apparently Edward wasn't able to accept this. Truly, was there anything about me that he was actually able to accept? The poor deluded boy was in love with the image of me as this shy, innocent, and chaste little girl who held to his turn-of-the-century morals. In reality, that wasn't who I was. Yes, I was shy and awkward, but I was a teenager transferring schools midway through the year, I was terrified of not fitting in, of being alone in a sea of strangers. I was the new girl in a town where everyone's grandparents had grown up together. Beyond that initial shyness, Edward never truly took the effort to get to know me; he was so used to knowing everything about people from reading their mind that he just filled in the blanks on his own.

I suppose it's my fault to some extent-I let him get away with it. I was the shy new girl, and I had the most gorgeous and eligible bachelor at the school professing his love to ME. This was the guy who had shown no interest in anyone else, so I let him make assumptions. I smiled and let myself become the girl he was looking for, and I was okay with that, until he took his arrogance too far and crushed my heart 'for my own good'. I will never forgive him for luring me out into the woods and strategically shattering my self-esteem, for taking away my best friend, and the only true family I have ever had. Charlie is my father and I love him dearly, but he wasn't a parent to me the way that Esme and Carlisle were. And that selfish boy took it all away from me with no consideration; it was ALWAYS about him. It wasn't that I was injured that forced him to flee; it was that he didn't want to live with the guilt of me being hurt.

Internally I sighed; this wasn't getting me anywhere and I did not want to dwell on the past today. I summoned up my inner joy and let it take over, pushing my negative thoughts and feelings away to be dealt with another time.

~o-o~

I was currently chatting with one of my regulars, Jim, who had been trying to convince me to hire a manager and go back to school. Jim was a senior lecturer at the Antioch University in New Hampshire and had been pushing me to enrol in their green MBA program for the last year. I could definitely appreciate the program they had designed for an MBA in organizational and environmental sustainability, it just wasn't a skill set I was looking to enhance.

My chats with Jim over the last year had ranged from philosophy to business management to environmental issues to music and I had really enjoyed getting to know him, but he was firmly in the camp that believed that you couldn't be successful without a graduate diploma or degree. I lived more in the camp that believed a piece of paper wasn't nearly as important as the skills you had. I laughed and shook my head as Jim offered me a full scholarship once again.

"MJ, you know your skills are going to waste here, you're such an intelligent young girl and you should have bigger dreams."

"Jim, you know I appreciate the offer, but I'm happy here, and what good would a degree in organizational sustainability do me in running a whisky bar? I'm not going to franchise, so this is it, six employees is the sum total of my organization." With a pat on the shoulder, I left Jim's table to move onto the next in my section.

There was a man sitting at one of the booths who looks like he hadn't been served yet. As I approached the dimly lit booth, I nearly dropped my drinks tray as I realised who it was. I let my eyes rake over him, taking stock of his scuffed up cowboy boots, dark wash jeans, and a rumpled grey button down. His unruly curls were framing his pale face, currently forming an expression of surprise. What the fuck was he doing here?

"You've got to be fucking kidding me! Are you fucking stalking me now? What are you doing in my bar!" I hissed at him and spun around, preparing to march back to the bar and call for reinforcements to escort him out. I was interrupted by a cool hand on my wrist gently restraining me.

"Wait, this is your bar?"

* * *

Things I had to google for writing this chapter (I like sharing this, it amuses me to no end):

Weird Al lyrics

Rickrolling

Boogie-woogie

Muddy Waters

Bourbon

Mississippi

Colleges in New England – can I tell you how enthusiastic I am about the green MBA – I mean I'm fail at business anything, but this is a fantastic idea!

It's also come to my attention that **Idreamofeddy** is the driving force behind this silly fucker of a Peter. I'm sure I was highly influenced by reading other fics, so I have to give credit to everyone whose fics subconsciously influenced my characterisation of Jasper, Peter and Charlotte. Bella is all mine (oh, and SM's). Check my favourites for some awesome B/J fics.

Oh and massive thanks to **mzbionic** my little sis, and **dandiegoose** my soon to be twifie, for listening to me rant and rave about this chapter, and then chatting about hair and family photos with me. Unfortunately, I didn't listen to any of their advice and you ended up with this chapter instead. Also, my apologies to Leelan, who hates the Black Eyed Peas with a fiery passion, I can't help it. That damn song gets to me every time!

You'll get some JPOV next chapter, I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Dark Temptation**

Thanks go to **Leelan Oleander** for holding my hand and saying nice things about my first lemon, even if it did originally defy logic and gravity. She is the maple syrup to my pancakes.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.

Warning: may be offensive if you are American, or a Republican. It's not my fault Jasper is a democrat. Honestly, I mean no offense by any of this, it's all part of the characters and if anything Edward or Jasper says upsets you, ask Rosalie to kick them in the balls, ok? I don't condone hate, and I don't give a shit about US Politics, all I really care is that you don't kick kittens, because Zombie Jesus will fuck you up if you do.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

When we last encountered our reluctant protagonist aka Jasper the dumb-fuck:

_As the car disappeared down the next street, I couldn't help but wonder why that second voice sounded so familiar. I turned around to head back inside and only then did I realise that my belt was loose and my pants were halfway undone._

_Oh._

~o_o~

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 6**

**JPOV**

What the fuck was that? Seriously

I suddenly clued in to the fact that I was still standing on my front lawn with my mouth hanging open almost as wide as my pants. Quickly deciding that this was not the way I wanted to get acquainted with my neighbours – who I've made a concerted effort not to meet at all so far – I hastily snapped my jaw shut and turned around, trying to discretely shove myself back into my pants. Storming back into my house, I finally managed to get my pants closed and my shirt smoothed out as I reached my front door.

What the fuck WAS that? Apparently I'm stuck on some kind of loop of incredulity and sheer mind-boggling wtf-ness, because that is the only coherent thought that is going through my head at the moment. Slamming my front door shut and nearly splintering the wood, I stormed into the living room and plopped myself down on the couch, scratching my head.

"What the fuck?"

Seriously this is getting old now. I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind, but all I managed to do was immerse myself in her scent and, _oh god_, her arousal. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and hanging my head my hands, while playing over the last few hours of my life in my mind. What the FUCK?

I've been wandering this earth for over 150 years, and yet this little slip of a girl manages to make me come completely unravelled, again. I needed to get the hell out of this house and away from her scent before my thoughts start veering into dark territory. I had been struggling so hard these past few years to pull myself together and move forward. One tiny, insignificant drop of blood had sent me careening off my path. That one little drop of ruby red heaven had forced me to leave the life I had known and my wife of fifty years behind and strike off on my own.

I quickly leapt off the couch and ran out the back door in a weak attempt to outrun my negative thoughts. I did NOT want to dwell on the past today. I had been doing better, I really was. Being away from other vampires, my control over my bloodlust was vastly improved, and attending courses at the local college had been helping me to move past what had happened. While most of the textbooks may have been wrong, it was certainly interesting to guess the political inclinations of the textbook authors depending on their interpretation of events. There were a shocking number of Republican historians by my estimations, now _there_ is a group of humanity that could use some culling.

I'm not sure that morally, there would be much of a difference between taking down elk to solve an overpopulation problem, and taking down Republicans on the same premise. No, that's not fair. The elk didn't choose to be elk.

Shaking my head, I laughed internally at the direction my thoughts had gone in. Politics had always been an interesting topic of discussion in the Cullen household; there were a surprisingly diverse range of opinions amongst the family. Not that it was much of a shock, but Edward was a staunch Republican, likely a remnant of the Victorian era morals he brought over with him when he was changed into a vampire. Debating with him was always amusing; he took everything so seriously and was completely blind to the rationality of any argument but his.

I found myself smiling, remembering one of our arguments about homosexual marriage. Emmett had been arguing that religious doctrine had no place in determining political policy and federal legislation. Emmett was often surprising us with his surprisingly complex perspectives on wide-reaching issues; he was much more intelligent than people suspected.

Edward of course, reached deep into his intellect for what he likely deemed a scathing retort. He argued that gay marriage was a sin because homosexual sex was an abomination and that without the former, the latter would be prevented. Therefore, by preventing homosexual marriage one could prevent homosexual sex from occurring. How these types of arguments make sense to him we've never quite understood.

Emmett and I, of course, both cracked up at this. Eddie-boy could be so simplistic sometimes. We tried to explain to him that most people regularly engaged in pre-marital sex but he seemed to think that making it illegal would solve the problem. I strangely doubt that 'sinners' are inherently concerned with sin or the law. You would think that with his ability to read the minds of those around him, he would be able to appreciate how much the world had changed, but he still believed strongly in the morals of his youth, and clung, almost foolishly to his belief in the innocence of mankind. Arguing with him sometimes was like arguing with a cow. Sure, it would make noises at you, but you weren't really speaking the same language_._

I was drawn out of my thoughts by the slow-thumping heartbeats from a herd of deer half a mile north of me. Catching their scent, I pumped my legs hard and sped towards them. Quickly draining two large bucks, I disposed of the carcasses and planted myself on a tree branch to relax and enjoy the fleeting sense of satiety the deer had provided me. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I leaned back against the trunk of the tree and rested my hands behind my head. I was about twenty feet off the ground, but I could still make out the subtle motion of each individual blade of grass as they swayed in the gentle breeze.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and willed my body to relax. Sometimes after a satisfying hunt, I would lie like this and pretend I was sleeping. Of all the human experiences that are lost in the transformation, I think I miss sleeping the most. As I relaxed further, enjoying the slight heat of the sun off my exposed skin, my mind began to wander back to this afternoon.

She had changed a lot since we had left her in Forks. Standing there, in that grocery store, despite the negative tenor of her emotions you could feel the strength radiating off of her. She had been weak, timid, and somehow off. She had had such a depth and range of feelings, the strength of which could rival a vampire's. At times, her emotions would seem superficial, artificial, almost as if she was projecting what she deemed was the appropriate cocktail—a perfect melange of socially acceptable emotions.

I had often wondered whether it was a conscious thing or if it was an unconscious reflex on her part. I know we had all wondered the same thing about her ability to block Edward's gift at one point, but I had never raised the question in regards to my gift. Much like thoughts, emotions were private, and unlike Edward, I respected people's right to privacy.

Bella's emotions now have a different tenor to them. They feel different, stronger, and more pure. Unfortunately the spectrum of her emotions has shifted from the positivity she perpetually radiated in high school, to a melancholy sense of yearning and dissatisfaction. She was no longer the naïve girl enthralled in the throes of first love, now she seemed more cautious, jaded and definitely feisty.

I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed her feistiness and her quick wit; she had certainly become a passionate creature.

Yes, she certainly was passionate. I thought back on the fire in her eyes, the venom on her tongue as she berated me for some unknown transgression. I knew it was wrong to think of Edward's Bella in this way, but some sick part of my mind revelled in the fantasy. I soon found myself loosening my belt and unbuttoning my pants, imagining it was her hands. How had I missed that? Oh how I wished I hadn't.

The memory of the anger burning in her eyes stirred something deep within me and I felt my cock stir as my hand reached into my pants. Parting my legs further, I recalled with vivid precision the feel of her lips against mine, her soft little body pressed up against mine. I pictured her nipples puckering and standing out against her shirt when I had pleasured her in the store as my hand slowly began to stroke up and down my cock.

My pace began to pick up, my hand squeezing harder against my engorged length as I envisioned her warm hand instead of my cold rough one. Her tongue, dancing with my own as her sweet breath washed across my face and filled my senses. A feeling of betrayal flashed through my mind and my hand faltered as I thought of how deeply my actions would hurt Edward. I had stolen a piece of her innocence that he never had. My pace picked up again as I remembered the flood of heat, the flush of blood rising to the surface as I had brought her to the peak of ecstasy that he had never experienced with her.

She was glorious; her head thrown back, panting and moaning, and it was MY doing. I had brought her to that, not Edward, not any other man. And I had very nearly had her in my house-I could have had her. I SHOULD have had her. My demon roared, surging to the surface as my hand glided across my cock, my thumb sweeping over the tip and collecting the drop of venom beading on its surface.

In my mind, I pictured her hair in wild disarray, her cheeks flushed, and her lips swollen and tender as I hovered over her. I pictured my name falling of her lips in ecstasy instead of rage. I imagined the searing heat that I would feel as I sunk myself deep into her and I roared as I found my release. Spurting venom all over my hand, I came back to reality with a start.

What the fuck? This little nuisance had turned my life upside down again, and now I was sitting in a tree covered in my own juices. Disgusted with myself, I wiped my hand off on a nearby branch and tucked myself back into my pants for the second time today. At least I accomplished one of the goals I had set out for myself this morning. Masturbation, check.

I sped back to the house and hopped into the shower, relishing the warm of the water as it sliced over my body. I need to get a fucking hobby. I need to get out of this house. Shutting off the water, I towelled myself off rapidly and decided I would go into town. Maybe I'll find a nice bar and relax myself by absorbing the emotional climate. Some bars were better than others, dance clubs and sports bars were out, the emotions there were too volatile, but cocktail bars and lounges often had very pleasant atmospheres. They often also had secluded corners where I could enjoy myself in relative peace.

Humans didn't often approach me in bars, most were naturally fearful and cognizant on some level that I was their predator. When they did, on those rare occasions come near, it was often unpleasant for me. The burning draw of their blood, combined with the scent of cheap perfumes, alcohol, drugs, medications, and whatever cocktail they had imbibed to rid them of their sense of self-preservation was abhorrent to me. Even stronger than the often disturbing spectrum of scents these humans were surrounded by, was the incredible amount of lust that they put off. Of all human emotions, it was the strongest, most pungent and most heady.

I had heard some students in one of my classes discussing a sort of whisky bar that boasted high end liquor and a subdued clientele. I decided to check the place out tonight and hopefully keep my mind off of a certain brunette.

~o_o~

A few hours later found me walking down a quiet street, dressed in dark washed denim jeans and a charcoal grey button down. I had a beat-up old leather jacket thrown over one arm, and some worn leather cowboy boots on my feet. I felt at ease as I inhaled the scents of the evening. I could smell the exhaust from the cars on the street, the delicious blood of the pedestrians, a hint of something awful wafting away from a street meat stand, and other miscellaneous scents of the city. The blood didn't bother me as much as it would have previously as I had recently hunted, and my earlier ministrations seem to have quieted down my inner demon, for the time being at least.

I turned a corner and caught a glimpse of a neon sign, seemingly out of place with the rest of the businesses on the street. A faded blue sign reading 'Electric Mud' in a slightly messy script was elegantly displayed above the door of an unassuming building. Deep curtains obscured my view of the interior, but the atmosphere inside seemed muted and peaceful.

Flashes of lust, or frustration would occasionally burst into the peace, but as quickly as they came, they faded into the quiet contentment that permeated the emotional atmosphere. Walking in the front door, I took a deep breath and appreciated the mingling scents of all the patrons, the distinctive aroma of a number of high-end liquors, and a number of aged whiskeys. The rich earthy smell of the wooden furniture was overlaid with a hint of cigarette and cigar smoke, but it was old. It seemed smoking had been allowed here before the laws had changed. It was a shame for a vampire such as me, since second hand smoke presented no danger, we couldn't get cancer, and the rich mixture of scents from a fine cigar was a fitting tribute to a cool glass of aged whiskey.

The soft chords of blues music were wafting from speakers spaced around the main area. There was a small stage at the side of the room, but it was empty tonight. Perhaps a dozen tables were filled with a wide assortment of customers, from the young to the old, chatting happily and sipping on their drinks. Strangely, there was no domestic beers, no sickeningly sweet scent of coke and cheap rum, but a pleasant blend of fine liquors. There were no overwhelming feelings of drunkenness, but a gentle buzz of enjoyment permeating the air. It seemed that this was the place to come to for a drink, not to get drunk.

I smiled and slipped into an empty booth, far enough away from the other patrons as to be unobtrusive, but not so far as to vex the staff. I sat back and relaxed, watching a thin but curvy blonde swishing her way throughout the room. She paused at a table near mine and smiled down at one of the men sitting there. I wasn't focusing on the conversation, but it seemed to be something about college. Her emotions seemed muted and she seemed lost in thought for a few moments, and then she smiled and her laughter filled the air around her. She politely declined the offer of a scholarship, as if this were not an uncommon occurrence before excusing herself to continue her rounds. She made her way over towards my booth, her eyes roaming over the small crowd and she gracefully slipped between tables on her path towards me.

I took a deep breath and froze as once again, I was assaulted with the scent of peaches, and sweet peas and sin. _Bella_.

She stumbled and nearly dropped her tray as she looked up and met my eyes. I couldn't contain my own gasp of surprise as her eyes raked over my body. Suddenly, she was in front of me, once again burning into me with her penetrating glare. Fire burned in her eyes, but her overwhelming emotions were more subtle, irritation and unease. She was not necessarily afraid of me, but she didn't want me here. There was no hatred though, which confused me. I found myself struggling once again to understand this strange creature before me.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me! Are you fucking stalking me now? What are you doing in my bar!" She spat at me, and quickly spun around, determination and irritation radiating out from her tiny body.

Without thinking, I reached out and grasped her warm wrist with one of my hands and gently held on, keeping her from running away from me once again. A thought hit me and I blurted it out before I realised how rude it sounded.

"Wait, this is your bar?"

Oh, shit. My eyes widened and my mouth fell open in horror at the accusing sound of my tone. She whipped her head around and glared at me. On some level, I was revelling in the passion in her eyes, but on the outside, I knew I was terrified of this little waif of a woman. Sure, I could snap her neck and drain her blood before she could even understand what was happening, but I realized she had a power over me too. She could tear me down with her words in a way that almost hurt more than if she had the strength to rip off my arms. I wanted her to respect me, to trust me, and even more concerning, I wanted her to like me.

As she stood there, practically panting in her anger, I took the opportunity to look her over. Her breasts were heaving, straining against the fabric of her dress, which hugged her in all the right places. I could appreciate her body now in a way that I never could before. She was beautiful, she had matured, in both her body and in the way she carried herself. Edward's Bella would never have worn something like this, not without Alice forcing her into it, and she especially would have never been so at home sashaying through a room full of people in heels and carrying a tray of glasses.

I realised that she had snapped out of her astonishment at my blunder and was now talking at me.

"… the fuck is wrong with you? I've said it before and I'll say it again, I don't know whether this is a vampire thing, a man thing, a Cullen thing, or just a STUPID thing, but you have to be, beyond a doubt, the dimmest fucking lightbulb in a box of broken lightbulbs. Did Alice steal your sense of fucking respect when she took your balls, or does animal blood just make you fucking stupid. What the HELL is wrong with you?"

I gaped at her. This woman, this fucking woman, how the hell does she do that? How does she simultaneously make me feel like I'm two feet tall and being dressed down by my mama for pullin' my sister's pigtails while making me want to bend her over this table and flip her skirt up so I can pound into her from behind?

"Now listen here…" I began to drawl at her, but she swiftly interrupted me, slamming her tray down on the table.

"No, you listen, you fucking piece of sparkly shit. This is my business, you don't come in here and disrespect me. I'm not the meek little fucking girl your douchebag of a brother abandoned in the forest. I'm not the naïve little girl who let your family dictate her life. You all walked out of my life and you have no right to come in here and-"

"He WHAT?" I roared at her, drowning out her tirade and catching the attention of the businessmen at the next table over. I lowered my voice, "Please tell me exactly what you mean when you said he abandoned you in the forest." I was trembling with anger as I waited for her to elaborate. Edward knew very well that there were worse dangers in the forest than even us, and to think that he would leave her out there...

Bella seemed to sense that I was losing it, so she grabbed my hand and forcefully pulled me to my feet and began leading me towards the bar. She stopped on the way to exchange a few words with the table she had been at earlier.

"It's okay, Jim, he's an old friend. Don't worry so much, it's bad for your blood pressure. I would hate for Sarah to have to kick my ass because you had a coronary on my behalf. I'll send Lee over with your drinks in a minute." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and he relaxed. It was good to see that she had people looking out for her but she always was charismatic and drew people to her.

She continued pulling me towards the bar, and then led me around a corner into a dimly lit office. She shut the door behind us, pointing to an overstuffed leather lounger seated across from a large wooden desk covered in paperwork and half-drank cups of coffee.

Still struggling to control my rage, I sat down where she indicated as she perched on the edge of the desk in front of me.

"Jasper, you don't get to be angry. Your whole family abandoned me without so much as a word. He may have been a dick about it, but at the least Edward took the time to tell me that he was bored of 'playing human' before he moved on. Yeah, it would have been nice if he hadn't torn me apart and played on my already low self-esteem, leaving me crying in the woods. It would have been great if I hadn't come back to reality to see a giant fucking were-wolf sniffing at my face. But, it is what it is."

"A FUCKING WEREWOLF? My idiot brother left you in the woods to be found by a fucking werewolf? Do you have any idea how fucking dangerous those things are?" I exploded at her, shouting in disbelief and spraying venom as I rose out of my chair. I planted my hands on the desk on either side of her hips and hovered over her, my face inches from her.

"Yes, a werewolf. Not the best way to find out that the local teens turn into giant slobbery dogs, but hey, I'm not sure there is a good way to find that out. At least Sam was nice enough to put on some pants before he carried me back to Charlie's house." She shrugged, as if it was no big deal to be around immature werewolves. I fumed as I struggled to find the right words to express how dangerous they were. As if she could sense my struggle, she raised an eyebrow, challenging me to say something.

"I… you… how do you manage to find every dangerous and mythical creature within a hundred mile radius? First vampires, then shifters, what's next, witches and warlocks?" I was breathing heavily, and I could tell my eyes were getting darker as my rage at my idiot fucking brother stewed.

"Well, actually, now that you mention it, I did meet a really kickass Voodoo priestess a few years back, but I haven't come across any warlocks; do they really exist?"

Something inside of me snapped at her casual dismissal of the world of myth and magic, and before I could stop myself, my lips were crashing against hers. There was only a moment of hesitation before she gave into me and our tongues were fighting for dominance as her hands became tangled in my hair. She continued pulling me ever closer as I gently pushed her to lie back against the desk. Breaking away from her mouth to let her breathe, I trailed kisses down her neck.

"My god woman…" I panted out as I moved closer to her breasts. I could see her nipples straining against the fabric and I wanted to free them. "… you are a fucking danger magnet."

I pulled her up, so I could reach the zipper at the back of her dress and attacked her mouth again. I fumbled with the small metal tab, but I was finally successful in unzipping her, careful not to rip the fabric. Oh god, one day I wanted to rip her clothes off of her, but I doubted she would appreciate that at the moment.

"You have no idea, Jasper," she breathed out. At the sound her practically panting out my name, I picked her up and slipped her dress the rest of the way off her body. I spun her around and bent her over the desk.

"You have to tell me to stop, Bella." I pleaded with her, as my hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts through the black satin material of her bra. I ground my erection into her ass as I prayed for her not to tell me to stop.

"Shut up and fuck me, Jasper." I ripped her matching black satin thong off her body and plunged the fingers of one hand into her delicious wet heat.

"Oh fuck, you smell so good… feel so good. Wet, hot, soft…" I trailed off as my other hand fumbled with my belt. She spun around and deftly released the buckle on my belt, unclasping my button and pulling down my zipper. I revelled in the sight as my fingers returned to pumping rapidly in and out of her, I had missed this the first time, and I was enjoying watching her undress me now.

Her hands trailed around the waistband of my boxer before plunging down to grab at my ass. She impatiently pushed my boxers down with my pants as she moaned and writhed against me.

"God, Jasper, fuck me."

I don't think my cock was free from its confines for more than 30 seconds before I plunged into her. Oh god, wet, soft, warm, heaven. It had been so long since I had had sex, much less sex with a human, and I didn't realise how much I had missed it.

As I continued to move languidly in and out of her body, relishing the friction, it occurred to me that something was missing that I expected.

"You're not a –", my mouth was buried in the warmth of her neck, nuzzling into her hair as I quickened my pace.

"Haven't been since before you met me," she gasped out, clawing at my back and writhing underneath me.

"But…"

"21st Century, Jasper… now shut up and fuck me".

I felt briefly disappointed and then decided that it didn't matter. I straightened up and grabbed her hips, pumping her forcefully up and down on my cock. Her tits were nearly bouncing out of her bra, and she was flushed and panting beneath me.

A cocky smirk crossed my face as I met her eyes and I played up my southern charm with a "yes ma'am."

"Oh god, fucking cowboys… oh god, yes. Yes. YESSSSSS" She screamed as she came all over my cock. Her warmth constricting around my cock sent me over the edge as I came with a roar and just barely stopped myself from biting down on her neck to mark her as mine.

Whoa, mine? Where did that come from? I was too blissed-out to focus any further on that disturbing thought as I collapsed on top of her, both of us sprawled across the desk as I carefully kept my weight from crushing her.

I kissed her languidly, relishing in the feeling of her warm, soft body tangled around my cold hard one. With a nearly inaudible sigh, I nuzzled my face back into her neck and just breathed in her scent. She had wrapped her arms around my neck, and her legs around my waist, and with my swiftly softening cock still inside of her, it was like she as hugging my entire body.

"God, Bella, that was… you smell so amazing, feel so good, I-" I stumbled with my words and eventually gave up, basking in the afterglow of contentment that she was radiating.

I could hear her take a deep breath and open her mouth as if to say something, but she was diverted by the shrill ringing of a phone from somewhere behind the desk. She shoved me off of her and scrambled around the desk, wearing nothing but her bra and shoes, to pick up a cordless phone from the floor.

"Yes?" she answered the phone, sounding breathless. A slight frown creased her brow as she looked at the mess of paper scattered around the floor, we had apparently knocked some things in the midst of our passion.

"Sorry to interrupt you MJ, but your husband is on the phone, he said it was urgent." I could hear the voices of clinking glasses in the background, so I assumed it was one of the waitresses, but I could only focus on one word. Husband. I looked at her left hand and wondered how I could have missed the delicate white gold band with a brilliant ruby nestled between two tiny diamonds. I looked up at her in horror and opened my mouth to say something, but held her hand up to keep me quiet.

"Thanks, Lee, can you put him on? How are you and Dani holding up out there? Sorry for disappearing but I had something important to take care of."

"We're doing just fine, hold on a sec and I'll transfer him through."

I watched as Bella picked up the underwear that I had ripped off of her body. She held up the scrap of fabric and raised her eyebrow at me. I tried to look ashamed, but seeing her standing there with nothing but heels and a bra on it was hard to focus on anything other than the flexing of her muscles as she jutted out her hip, and the sweet slice of heaven between her legs.

Shaking her head, she picked up her dress and stepped into it, holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear.

"Hey, sweetheart," a deep masculine voice sounded over the phone and I watched in confusion as a smile broke across her face, erasing the slight wrinkle of her brow from her previous frown.

"Hey, Big Poppa! Do I need to buy more bleach for the kitchen counter?" She chirped, laughing slightly as she turned around, indicating for me to zip her up.

"That might not be a bad idea, MJ. How come you're in your office, I thought you were short handed tonight?"

There was something about the voice on the other end of the phone that was niggling at the back of my mind. There was a deep sense of unease that I was trying to write off as simple jealousy, but I was having trouble convincing myself that was all.

"Oh, someone dropped by and we needed a bit of privacy. It's been a quiet night, the girls probably didn't even need me in here, but better safe than sorry. Jim says hi, by the way, he offered me the scholarship again."

A deep chuckle resounded, and I could have sworn I heard a feminine laugh in the background. I was trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to get my own clothes straightened out, and I frowned as I struggled to resolve the sense of _something_ that was just out of reach.

"Hmm...Well I don't want to keep you, but I actually called for a reason," the voice paused and Bella's frown deepened. "Your, ah, sister called. She suggested it might be a good time to go home and visit Charlie, the usual."

"Oh." Bella's feelings switched from curiosity and mild concern to a deep sense of dread tinged with frustration and anger; it was disorienting how fast she had switched from post-orgasmic euphoria to this storm cloud of negativity. I tried to push some calm at her, but her head whipped around and the glare she shot at me would have made me piss myself if I could. I held my hands up in defeat and sank back into the chair I had previously occupied.

"Fuck, do we have a time frame?" she sighed.

"Ah, not exactly, it will probably be a near miss, but I don't want to take any chances. We booked you on a flight out tonight after the bar closes, but I don't think we're joining you this time."

"Oh?"

"I heard my brother was in the area, thought we might see if he'd meet up with us in Montreal." Confusion clouded Bella's features as she looked over at me. What the fuck is this?

Bella has a sister, and it sounds like something is wrong with Charlie. I hope he's not ill; he was a good man and though I never knew him well, I had the utmost respect for Chief Swan. But why wouldn't her husband go with her if his father-in-law was unwell. I was so lost in thought that I missed the rest of the phone call, and only returned to reality in time to see Bella throwing the phone back into a pile of paper on the floor. She turned to look at me expectantly; I guess the complete 'what-the-fuck' look I was sporting might have clued her into the fact that I was a bit lost.

"You're married, Bella? What-"

She shook her head at me and walked towards the door. "I'm sure you've got a lot of questions, Jasper, but now isn't the best time. I've got to get back out there and let my girls take their breaks, and I've got to get the schedule covered for the next few days since I'm apparently going out of town." She was irritated, which I didn't understand.

"Why, is it, did something happen to Charlie? And since when do you have a sister?" I got up and followed her out the door and back down the small hallways towards the bar.

"No Charlie's fine, it's just…fuck it's just complicated. I don't have time to sit down and explain things to you." Her irritation and exasperation changed to determination as she put a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. I was feeling angry and confused, and something strange seemed to be happening; the world felt like it was slowly spinning around me and noises were starting to sound muffled.

"Look, Jasper, I know this is a bit fucked, but I really think you should get out of town for the next few days, and don't follow me. Charlie lives on the Res now, and the Quileutes won't exactly be too friendly to you. Go for an extended hunt or something, I hear Canada is beautiful this time of year." Now she was radiating smugness and a bit of mischief. She thinks this is funny; she's fucking toying with me! Why does it feel like the world is spinning, and she's smiling at me. Why is she smiling like that? Fuck, it's time to get the hell out of here.

Shaking my head, I mumbled my goodbyes and strode out of the bar and began wandering in the general direction of home. My mind was swirling with unformed thoughts and questions. She was married, but something seemed off about it. She felt genuine love when she was on the phone with her husband, but why would she have had sex with me then? Was she so different from the girl I had once known that she would do such a thing? I felt no guilt or regret from her, either this afternoon or just now, which plagued me even further. Bella had always been an inherently good person, how could she cheat on her husband?

The fact that Edward had not been able to read her mind made me wonder about the true dynamics of their relationship, had he known that she wasn't a virgin? I couldn't imagine Edward ever being able to love someone he deemed 'tainted'. He always spoke about how he loved her innocence, but she apparently wasn't the innocent girl we always thought her to be. And God, why did I care so much to unravel the mystery that was Bella…? I paused, realising I had no idea what her last name would be now. What kind of man was her husband, was he worthy of her? How could he be if he was blowing off her family to go gallivanting off to Canada with his brother?

I decided that I would go to Montreal and see if I could find this husband of hers. It was a long shot, but I would do anything to make sure that the man Bella loved was worthy of her.

* * *

Shit I googled for this chapter:  
Dogma  
Cogito ergo sum  
Ontological proof  
Model: ECHO-G. Emission Scenario: SRES marker scenario B1, Global Warming Rate: low – err no wait, that had nothing to do with this chapter, that was for work

Uhh, recs for you: **Striptease** by **Scorcha Cullen** which has a real douchebag of a Mike Newton in a B/E New Moon AU story, and **Conversations with my Killer** by **Oracle Vas** in which Jasper drops Bella off a roof, also there is a puppy.

I'm sorry this chapter was a bit late, between work and my cute overload-induced panic attack, I've been preoccupied. No shit, I started hyperventilating because the kittens were literally so cute I could die.

Also, woo I've got almost 50 reviews! This is super exciting :D and FYI this story can also befound at twiwrite (dot) net and freshsqueezedlemons (dot) com


	7. Chapter 7

**Dark Temptation**

I want to apologise for the delay on this chapter. I'm going overseas next week (btw updates may continue to be slow), so I've been running around like a crazy person trying to get work and school and laundry and etc done before I leave. Also, the surprise to my tuna (I'm trying this out, maybe not) **Leelan Oleander** who usually works her beta-magic and fixes my commas and ellipses had a fire in her apartment building last week. So her life is all kinds of crazy since she can't go in because of smoke damage. So, I had to find a temporary beta to help me out while she is re-organising her life. Big round of applause for **Dandiegoose** for stepping up for me and fixing my grammar and laughing at my (terrible) jokes. You should check out her story **Try It, You'll Like It**, because you will like it. It's an awesome tale of awkward Bella and Chefward.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 7**

**BPOV**

"Please ensure that all of your personal luggage is securely stowed in the overhead compartment, and your seats and tray tables are locked in their upright position."

I hate takeoff. I understand that flying is safe, but I just hate takeoff and landing. The loud rumbling of the engines, the jolt of speed, the pressure, the slight popping of my ear drums. I hate takeoff. I hate landing too. Peter always laughs that it's not the hurtling through the air at impossible speeds that scares me, but the part where we're going slower and are closer to ground. Less distance to fall, but it's not the falling that scares me, it's hitting the ground.

It's not so bad when I'm flying with Peter or Char, because I know that if something actually were to happen, they could protect me. I know the likelihood of being in a plane crash is about on par with being struck by lightning, but you've clearly never flown Qantas. I loved visiting Australia, but their national airline scared me silly; a blown out tire on the landing gear and an 'oops we overshot the runway' will instil that kind of reaction.

As we reached our cruising altitude, the seatbelt light flashed off and the co-pilot started going on about flight times and the weather at our destination. I tuned him out, it's Seattle; the forecast is rain. I put in my earbuds and flicked through my iPod until I found some Mumford and Sons to help pass the time.

_Weep for yourself, my man,  
You'll never be what is in your heart  
Weep little lion man,  
You're not as brave as you were at the start_

I began wondering if there were tribes of shifters out there other than the Quileutes that shift into lions instead of wolves. Oh god, I can just picture Jacob with a little lion's mane, meowing like a kitten. Jesus, there has got to be something wrong in my head.

I'm excited to see Jacob though, and Quil, Embry, Sam and Emily. I miss Seth; he's the greatest little brother in the world. Hell, I miss Leah too, even though she is a raging bitch. She's got good reason. I remember being shocked when Leah called me out of the blue screaming that Charlie was violating her mother. I hadn't kept in very good touch with the Pack once I moved away, and aside from infrequent calls to check in with Jacob, I had no idea what was going on back home. Charlie had, apparently, neglected to mention in our weekly father-daughter phone calls that he was shacking up with the recently widowed Sue Clearwater. To say I was shocked would have been an understatement, disgusted actually since Leah's careless words conjured up mental image that no daughter ever wants to have about her father. After I got over the ick-factor though, I realised I was really happy for my dad. Leah and I realised that Sue and Charlie were lonely and deserved happiness. It was an added bonus that I got Seth as a little brother; he's the coolest kid in the world.

About a week after that horrendous phone call with Leah, Charlie called to ask me if I would be upset if he proposed to Sue. I was ecstatic for him, and I told him so. Charlie was a great man, and he deserved all the happiness in the world. A few months later, they had a simple wedding on the Res and I flew up to be one of Sue's bridesmaids. They decided that Charlie would move onto the Res to live with them, so that Seth and Leah didn't have to transfer schools. I think it worked out well for Charlie. Even though he was a pale-face, the elders of the tribe welcomed him into their world with open arms. In addition to his long-standing friendship with Billy Black, he gained quite a few new fishing buddies. Also, it helped that he had friends there who could help him deal with his step-children disappearing at all hours and destroying their clothes. He didn't understand, but the elders explained it was a tribal thing and not to worry.

I still don't understand why Charlie hasn't figured out that there is something unusual going on with the Quileute kids, but I think he just doesn't want to know. I can't blame him; my life would have been much easier if I never found out about the supernatural world. Perhaps that makes me ungrateful, because Peter, Char and the Pack have done so much for me. I know, though, that if I met Peter under different circumstances, the three of us would still have ended up close friends. Of course, if they had lived their natural lives, they would either be very old or long dead, so I guess that theory doesn't entirely hold.

I started laughing hysterically at the mental image of an octogenarian Peter in a nursing home, chasing the orderlies down the hallways in his wheelchair and trying to incite riots in the other residents over sub-standard tapioca. Maybe the world is a better place without a perverted old-man version of Peter. The business man seated beside me looked over and gave me a look that clearly said 'Oh shit, I'm sitting next to the crazy lady'. I gave him cut-eye and then smiled sweetly and tapped my headphones. Let him assume I'm listening to a funny podcast. Lord knows I've made an ass of myself enough times doing that.

I snorted again and covered my mouth with my hand remembering the previous week when I had been listening to an amateur fan fiction podcast and had started laughing so hard I dropped a 10 lb weight on my foot. Some things never change, while I'm not as clumsy as I used to be back in high school, I still have my moments which are completely devoid of grace or class.

I was disrupted from my internal musings by the stewardess leaning over and tapping me on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Mrs. Parker, we're approaching Seattle now, could you please turn off your music for our final descent?" I nodded and put my iPod back into my pocket, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. I took a few deep breaths and tried to keep myself calm as the plane dropped, sending my stomach up into my throat.

After a nerve wracking and turbulent landing, I scurried out of my seat as soon as the seat-belt sign flickered off. I stood on the edge of my seat to grab my carry-on out of the overhead compartment and rushed off the plane. I love flying first class, it's an extravagance that I never used to be comfortable with, but I've resigned myself to the fact that being married to a vampire means never having to be crammed like a sardine in economy. Frankly, it was a relief not having to be squished in between two large and inevitably foul smelling men, which was always my luck. I think I'm getting spoiled.

I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck, enjoying the feeling of terra firma, and made a beeline for the car rental desks. I pulled out my phone and checked my message from Char with all the details, and strolled up to the Hertz desk.

"Hi, I've got a booking under Dwyer?"

The pimply faced boy behind the counter smiled at me and fumbled around behind the desk, finally handing me a sheaf of paperwork and the keys for some generic midsize sedan. I wasn't paying much attention to him, instead I was wishing that I were back home, or that Peter or Char were here with me. The desk clerk, Carl, seemed to have finished whatever he was saying, so I scribbled my signature onto the form, and waited for him to separate all the paperwork and hand me my keys.

Half an hour later found me driving down the highway towards Forks with a large Starbucks dark roast and chatting with Char on the phone to let her know I had arrived.

"So how's Montreal treating you, sugar?" I just knew that Peter would have dragged her out to Club Super Sex, it was his favourite place in all of Canada. Personally, I didn't see that Canadian strippers were any better than US strippers, but apparently Pete had a thing for French Canadians. Who knows.

"Actually, he went without me, I'm heading out to Connecticut to go antique hunting instead. Peter seemed a little too excited about the trip so I figured it was best to steer clear." I laughed along with her, knowing that Peter being excited usually meant he had plans to stir shit up.

"Well, at least this way we'll be able to post bail for him when he gets arrested." I giggled, remembering the time I had to call Charlie to post bail for me because the three of us were arrested.

~o_o~

Char and I were arrested for public intoxication, but Peter got booked for lewd acts. We had been stumbling home from the bar in Memphis and Peter had seen his holy grail of cars. He had been whining for over a year that he wanted to get this one car, but both Char and I thought it was a waste of money and a waste of gas. Of course the asshole would want to get a car that basically got one mile per gallon. But oh, you couldn't talk sense into this fucker. So when he had seen a 1967 Cadillac Eldorado convertible, hot pink, with whale skin hubcaps and all leather cow interior, he lost it.

He muttered to himself, "All you need is big brown baby seal eyes for headlights", and then he dropped trou and started rubbing himself all over the car. Then looking inside, he realised that there was kangaroo skin for the seatback pouches, and he, honest to god, started fucking the back of the seat. It was just… it was a train wreck, and Charlotte and I couldn't take our eyes off of the spectacle in front of us.

"Is that his-?" I whispered to Char.

"Is he really-? She whispered at the same time.

We were so consumed in the train wreck in front of us that we didn't even hear anyone approach.

"My fucking car!"

Without missing a beat, Peter shouted over his shoulder at the man. "Technically, your car is the fuckee."

Turns out the owner of the car which was being violated, a cop, had chosen that EXACT moment to return. So yeah, we were arrested, and had to call my dad to bail us out, which was why it was a good thing that neither of us were in Montreal right now because I don't think Charlie would be so tolerant a second time.

~o_O~

Char and I chatted a bit longer, and then we said our goodbyes. Not much later I found myself driving through the familiar streets of the Quileute reservation and pulling up in front of Charlie and Sue's little red wooden house.

"Bella! How's my favourite sister?" Seth came bursting through the front door and yanked me out of the car, enveloping me in a bone crushing hug.

"Dude…can't breathe!" I laughed as Seth put me down and relinquished his death grip with a sheepish grin. Charlie and Sue soon followed Seth's lead in greeting me with warm hugs as Leah sauntered out and mockingly glared at Seth for his earlier comment.

"We all know I'm only the favourite sister because he doesn't have to put up with me often." I laughed as we made our way back into the house.

"So Bells, what brings you home?" Charlie asked me as we settled ourselves into the small living room. I smiled and nodded my head at Leah in thanks and told them all I had managed to schedule myself a few days off work and felt the desperate need for some freshly caught fish. We bullshitted around for a while, and Seth asked why Peter hadn't joined me. I shot him an exasperated look and explained that he hoping to spend a few days in Montreal with his brother.

After helping Sue prepare everyone a dinner of the aforementioned freshly caught fish, Seth, Leah and I wandered down to First Beach for a bonfire. Literally the moment we stepped out onto the beach, I was enveloped in Jacob's warm arms and the world started spinning around me.

"Damn it, what is it with you wolf guys and forgetting I need to breathe? I may run with vamps but I'm still human!" Jacob barked out a laugh and wrapped his arm around my shoulder as he led me down to the fire pit where the Pack and their imprints were sitting around drinking beers and making noise.

"I've really missed you around here Bells. I wish you could just move back home." Jacob sighed as we settled down on an old driftwood log.

"I know Jake, but I've got the bar, and as much as you don't like them, Peter and Char treat me good. I'm happy there." I smiled at him weakly. I knew that Jacob missed me, but this wasn't home anymore.

"It's not that I don't like them, Bells, I think that under different circumstances we could actually be friends. It's just, the circumstances. They're vampires, and they're _human-_drinkers. Even if I understand that they hunt off the scum of humanity, it just goes against the grain; even a pedophile has a family. While I can understand on the one hand that they're saving lives, I still can't just accept it, you know?" Jake huffed in frustration, and I could feel the eyes of the other members of the pack burning into me as we re-hashed a common conversation between the two of us.

~o_o~

The wolves had learned to respect Peter and Char, even if they couldn't bring themselves to like them. A few years back, Peter had got a 'feeling' and said that it might be a good time for me to head back to Forks. I knew that it wasn't worth fighting Peter's feelings, so I had gone back to visit with Charlie and hang out with the pack. While I was there, a nomad had passed through the territory and the pack had gone after him. I'm a bit sketchy on the details still, but the nomad had managed to get his teeth into Seth before being dismembered by the pack.

I recall vividly the shock of Jacob bursting into Charlie's house clad only in a pair of cut-offs. As soon as I met his eyes, I _knew_ something was wrong. I took off in a dead sprint, following him into the trees until he phased back into his wolf form and slung me onto his back. We raced into the forest where I found Seth howling in agony, stuck somewhere between his human form and his wolf form, with a crescent shaped wound in his shoulder. I knew that unlike humans, who would change given exposure to the venom, for wolves it was a death sentence.

I quickly sprinted to his body and started sucking on the wound, remembering that Edward had done this for me when I was bitten by James in Phoenix. Disgusted and confused, Sam had dragged me away from Seth's form while I spat out the blood. I tried desperately to get back to him, but I was no match for any of these boys, and finally I realised that they didn't understand. I explained in broken phrases, fragmented by my hysteria and worry for my little brother, how they had saved me from the change in Phoenix. I also realised that I wouldn't be able to know when to stop. I couldn't taste the difference in blood, all it tasted was metallic and foul to me. Jacob understood my dilemma and immediately called Peter who had been staying at the only motel in Forks.

Within minutes, he and Char appeared at my side, as I knelt beside Seth's form, alternately sucking on his wound and spitting his blood onto the dirt at my knees. I begged Peter with my eyes to help my brother. With a grimace he knelt down in the dirt beside me and sucked the venom out until Seth's blood ran clean. When he was finally finished, he looked at the puddle of blood where he had been spitting it out and grimaced in disgust.

"How the fuck do those pansy-assed piss-eyes drink animal blood if it tastes THAT bad, I mean even tequila smells better. You're damn lucky that I love you MJ because Char aside, there ain't no one in the world I would put myself through that for."

Peter had saved Seth's life that day, and saved the pack the pain of losing a brother. While they didn't have to like him, they granted him grudging respect and allowed him and Char permission to cross the reservation border with me, on the condition that they did not feed in the area. It was hard for the pack to digest being in the debt of human-drinking vampires, but they were honourable. Seth, of course, developed a sort of hero worship for my husband. I think he would have felt that way about any vamp that was friendly to him; he was like Carlisle in his limitless capacity to show compassion and understanding and strive for peace.

~o_O~

Bringing myself back to Jacob, I smiled and nudged him with my shoulder. "Hey, agree to disagree, right my other brother from another mother?"

We laughed together, joined by Seth and Leah. Jacob had gotten over his infatuation with me, and we had become like siblings, so I always called him my brother from another mother, and in return he called me his sister from another mister. When Charlie and Sue married and I gained Seth and Leah as siblings, he became my other brother from another mother.

A throat clearing from across the circle of logs caught my attention and I looked up at the wicked gleam in Emily's eyes. We had a grudging respect for each other, even though I held some bitterness towards her for being Sam's imprint and stealing Leah's happiness. In return, she held bitterness towards me, as without the Cullens returning to Forks, Sam would never have phased and this whole mess, including the horrific scars adorning her face and torso, would never have happened. So we compromised and wished the world were normal.

"So vamp girl, tell me, do your husband and his mate suck on your tampons?"

We all shared a laugh at our on-going mock rivalry between vamp girl and wolf girl.

"I dunno, wolf girl, does Sam piss on your leg to mark his territory?"

We all shared a laugh knowing that if Sam thought he could get away with it he absolutely would. He scowled mockingly at me, and the conversation broke off again into smaller groups.

The night passed quickly as I drank and chatted with my friends. I caught up with all the local gossip, finding out that a few more had imprinted, and that Jess Stanley and Mike Newton had been shamed into a shotgun wedding by, of all people, Mike's mother. I found that highly amusing, and was secretly happy for Jess that she had finally caught Mike's attention. I hoped that the two of them would stay happy together.

At some point in the night I remembered to pull Leah aside and thank her for calling. I asked her if she knew anything about what was going on, but she told me that she hadn't gotten much information other than that it was a good time for me to be on the res. I thanked her and then we stumbled back over to the fire and laughed as Embry tried to jump over the fire and started swearing when he kept burning himself.

I lost count of how many beers I had drank, it was different drinking around the wolves. I was used to sharing my drunkenness with Charlotte and Peter; we had figured that the effort it took me to expand it on to them sobered me up a bit. I hadn't quite figure out how to affect the wolves, and truly they didn't need it as they were starting to stumble around and howl at the moon. I remember giggling at Paul and Jacob as they mocking sparred on the beach, and then I remember warm arms carrying me to my bed, before the darkness enveloped me and I succumbed to sleep.

~O_~

I was jolted out of my slumber by shouting from downstairs. For a moment, I sincerely wished I was back home, where there really were no good reasons to wake me up before a decently human hour. Looking over at my alarm clock, I realised it was 8am and someone was going to have to die.

"Bella!" Seth bellowed from downstairs, "Wake up and make me pancakes!"

"Eat shit and die, Seth." I croaked out, burying my head under the pillows to block out the evil sunlight. Fuck, while I may not be hungover, nobody likes to be woken up to blinding bright sunlight. I heard Seth laughing downstairs, by this point he had become familiar with my abject hatred of waking up, especially in the mornings.

"Ok, ok. I'm getting up, do we have ingredients: eggs, flour, milk, sugar, bacon?" I shouted down the stairs as I peeled off the jeans and t-shirt I had been wearing last night. I gave myself a quick sniff check and figured I could do without a shower until after breakfast. Slinging on some fresh clothes, I listened as Seth banged around in the kitchen for a bit.

"Nope, we don't have bacon or eggs. Can we go to the store and pick some up? I really want pancakes!"

Trudging down the stairs I grunted at Seth and wrapped my hands around the travel mug of coffee he had prepared for me. Inhaling the rich aroma, I held my hands out for my car keys and shuffled over to the front door, grabbing a pair of Leah's flip flops and my purse on the way.

"C'mon slugger, I'm driving"

Seth bounded out the door behind me and squished into the passenger seat of my rental, and after a few sips of coffee, I was ready to hit the road.

"What the fuck are you doing up so early, fuckhead?" I grumbled as I turned onto the main highway through town. It was a well known fact that while my vocabulary may be colourful first thing in the morning, it lacked a certain variety.

Seth grinned at me and explained, "Well, after we put you to bed, princess, Embry and I were on patrol. So technically, I'm still awake and I wanted some grub before I crashed out for the day." I grumbled some more and gave Seth cut-eye for being so perky while I was clearly suffering. I often wonder if the wolves naturally needed less sleep, or if Seth was secretly on speed.

Minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of the lone grocery store in Forks and piled out of the car towards the sliding glass doors at the entrance. Grabbing a basket, I herded Seth towards the produce aisle and headed off to the meat department to pick up some bacon. Even seeing the displays of fresh fruit and veg had my legs trembling and my breath coming out in short pants. I wasn't prepared to explain to my little brother why I was moaning in front of the Roma tomatoes, so I decided to avoid the produce aisle all together.

While Seth picked out some bananas and fresh berries for us, I picked up some maple smoked bacon and was debating making a roast for dinner tonight when I was interrupted by the shrill voice of Lady Gaga talking about her disco stick. I never knew what my ring tone was going to be from day to day, but if it was embarrassing or awkward, I knew that Peter was calling me.

"Hey babe, miss me already?" I picked up the phone and smiled as I answered.

Instead of Peter's cocky response, I was greeted by a shocked gasp. "_Bella?_"

"Oh, shitballs." I dropped my phone.

* * *

I usually keep a doc open with "shit I googled for Chapter X", but unfortunately I haven't for this chapter. I can tell you that in my google searching for this chapter I stumbled across a giant Dr. Seuss snow sculpture of the Cat in the Hat. It was awesome.

Also for reference - Mumford & Sons is a pretty kickass group and I was listening to their album while writing this chapter. And the car, it's from the song Asshole by Denis Leary. The Kangaroo pouch that Peter is fucking, well that was my dear friend Alice's brilliant idea. You should check out her collab Princess Bride-Twilight crossover fic. It's called **The twilight Bride** and it's under the penname **AQuad**.

Other rec for this week would be **Life Happens, So Just Roll With It** by **mama4dukes**. She writes a kickass Bella/Jasper fic, and oh god. Don't drink anything while reading it unless you want to clean your monitor. It contains spermal expulsions in the crotchal region. Go.

Goddamn, this time next week I'mma be in Canada, and this time two weeks from now, Imma be lying on the beach drinking mai-tais and checking out the sexy rasta dudes in Jamaica. WOOO. And poor boyfriend will be sitting at home here in Australia trying to figure out how to microwave soup.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Dark Temptation**

Ok so, I'm going freaking insane right now. It's 3am my time, and I just watched the sun rise from Vancouver airport. But the good news? You get a chapter from the airport! I wrote a large proportion of this on a 3 1/2 hour bus ride from Canberra to Sydney on Wednesday, and then the amazing **Leelan Oleander** managed to turn this around in record time for you so that I could post from Canada. It's like the 3rd thing I've done since I got here (first two being Tim Hortons Coffee and cigarette, in that order).

I am told that this chapter is incredibly politically incorrect, and it is. I can't help it if... well you'll see, it's all Peter's fault anyways.

And for those who were confused with the last chapter - the _"Bella?"_ was coming from her phone. I guess maybe I didn't express that super well. I'm learning as I go here

WOOOOOOO CANADA!

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin'.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 8**

**JPOV**

Walking home from Electric Mud, I'm not sure I really registered anything going on around me. I was so lost in thought about the clusterfuck that was Bella Swan that I couldn't even tell you if I had been walking at a human pace.

What was it about this girl, no, woman, that let her get under my skin in such a manner in which so few had ever managed. I couldn't figure out what to make of her. My impression of the shy, naïve little girl who followed Edward around in Forks was clearly no longer accurate, and I was beginning to wonder whether it ever was. She wasn't anything like I thought she would be, she was assertive, she was incredibly intelligent, she was self-confident and un-assumingly sensual, she was sexual and oh _god_ so tight.

Standing in my kitchen staring at the box of popsicles in my freezer, I felt my pants grown uncomfortably tight as I recalled the feel of my cock sliding between her hot, wet, tight lips. My right hand found its way into my pants as I remembered the sensation of pounding into her as she lay across her desk beneath me.

God, she was Edward's little Bella, and I took her like an animal. I tried to summon even one ounce of regret for betraying Edward and Alice in such a way - by defiling their little human, but I couldn't bring myself to regret spilling my seed deep inside of her and feeling her walls pulsating around me as her orgasm swept over her. No, as much as I probably shouldn't have done it, I couldn't regret experiencing that. We were adults, unlike the freaky mindfuck twins, and we could make our own decisions.

My erection swiftly died as I wondered whether Alice had _seen_ us. Moving into my bedroom, I sat on the edge of my bed holding my head in my hands, I wondered whether Edward had seen the vision in her head. Had they told the family? I grimaced, finally feeling some shame at the thought of Emmett and Rose's reaction. Emmett would be furious that I 'took advantage' of his baby sister, and Rose would be disappointed that I let the human drive another wedge between the members of her family.

I didn't know whether Alice was still looking into my future or Bella's. I knew that Edward had asked Alice not to look for Bella, but Alice doesn't always listen. I felt dread overwhelm me at the thought of facing the family in consequence of my actions. Swiftly moving to my feet, I realised that it would be best not to be around, just in case they did show up. I flashed quickly around the house, opening all the windows hoping to dissipate the remnants of Bella's scent that lingered in the living room. I rushed to my bedroom, grabbed a small duffle with some clothes, and dashed out the back door.

I wasn't terribly concerned about someone breaking into the house, I had security screens and nothing of any importance was stored here. My neighbours were wary of me and would not likely approach the house anyways, but I left my truck in the driveway to deter burglars. Replacing things was a hassle and despite-or perhaps as a result of-my years with Alice, I found shopping to be an unpleasant experience. I hopped onto my Harley,strapping my bag in and pealed out of the driveway, tires squealing as I pulled onto the street.

Without consciously thinking about my destination, I found myself on the highway headed north. I was delayed by a necessary stop for refuelling and the purchase of a foul smelling cup of coffee as cover when I was forced off the road to avoid one of the rare stretches of uninterrupted sunshine. As the clouds moved back in, I found myself back on the road and quickly approaching the Canadian border. I showed the border guard my ID and flashed him a brilliant smile which seemed to cause him a certain amount of unease. Unwilling to spend any more time than absolutely necessary with what his subconscious was telling him was his natural predator; he hastily waved me though, having barely checked out my false identification. I continued my journey towards some destination that I had not consciously embraced yet.

Some part of my subconscious must have wanted to seek out the man whom Bella had married. Bella as a married woman seemed unlikely to me, as I had previously heard her air her views on many occasions to Edward about marriage. Much to Edward's dismay she claimed no particular affinity for the institution of marriage, likely discouraged by the dissolution of her parents' marriage and its impact upon her life. I couldn't help but want to evaluate the man who had changed her views.

I considered the possibility of a shotgun wedding- though Bella might not feel obligated; I imagined that Chief Swan would have had some very strong views on his grandchild being born out of wedlock. I had seen her naked body though, and I had registered none of the obvious signs I understood to suggest that a female had given birth, there were no stretch marks, her stomach was firm and toned, her breasts were heavenly, but did not demonstrate the pendulousness that arose from having been full with milk. I was also given to believe that natural childbirth loosened the vaginal canal, and that certainly had been tight.

This husband of hers must have captured her attention, and her heart, in a way that Edward never had. I could feel her love for him as they spoke over the phone, yet there must be something I was missing because she felt no remorse or guilt about conversing with him wearing nothing but a pair of heels while my seed trickled down her thighs.

_Curiouser and curioser._ For some reason, I felt like I needed to understand the strange dynamics of their relationship. This is probably why I found myself cruising through the streets of old Montreal, looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack when I knew nothing about the needle aside from the fact that it existed, and that it was supposedly somewhere in this particular haystack.

Growing frustrated with the impossibility of the situation that I found myself in, I made my way over to the area of Peel St and St. Catherine's and checked myself into the first hotel I came across. Carrying my meagre duffle bag into my suite, I soon found myself resuming my previous position on the edge of an unfamiliar bed with my head in my hands.

What was wrong with me? Why did I care? Why did I want to follow Bella to Forks and fuck her and fight her, and yell and scream and hold her close. Why did this stupid, beautiful, infuriating, amazing woman have the power to completely up-heave my life for the second time? Why did I have this burning need to find this husband of hers and rip him limb from limb? I wanted to congratulate him for claiming her heart, and beg him to tell me what he did that I couldn't do.

_Wait, what?_

Shaking my head, I launched myself from the bed and walked into the bathroom. I turned on the water in the shower and stripped off my clothes as steam began to fill the small room. I stepped under the water, which would have been scalding to a human and sighed as I let the tension wash out of my body. I let all of the aggravation and stress swirl down the drain as if the water was actually capable of washing away all of my unanswered questions. I methodically washed my hair, and I lathered up my hands and passed them across my body.

Up one arm and down the other, I scrubbed myself, across the broad expanse of my chest and down my abdomen, the slick feeling of the soap provided a pleasant contrast against the textured surface of my skin which was mottled with thousands of crescent shaped scars. Battle wounds, an ugly reminder of the monster that constantly seethed just beneath the surface. In some ways, my disfigurement could be seen as a display of my badges of honour, but it struck fear into the hearts of most.

My hand moved further down my torso and firmly grasped my erection for what felt like the hundredth time that day. I urgently ran my hand up and down my straining length, the slippery lubricant of the soap guiding my hand to glide faster, harder, tighter. Desperately seeking the friction, the warmth I was craving, my motions continued. One hand was splayed against the wall of the shower as my hips began to move in contrasting rhythm with my other hand. So. Fucking. Close.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, imaging that as the stream of water was hitting my chest it was washing away my sins. Sinful, sexual, brown eyes stared back at me from behind my closed lids, causing me to let out a feral roar as I came with an unexpected force into my hand.

Sighing, I rinsed myself off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping my body in a towel and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Fuck, I needed a distraction. Thankfully, some part of my brain finally decided to start working and suggests that I get out of the hotel. Maybe I'll check out that strip club that Peter used to talk about. Club Super Sex, that's where I'll go. I'll find a nice little human girl without brown eyes that could destroy your soul, or sinful lips that just invited you in, and I would fantasize about her instead.

I quickly dried myself off and dressed in some ripped jeans and a blue and grey plaid button down. I slipped into my boots and grabbing my wallet and key, I strode out the door and made my way down to the lobby. I considered asking the concierge for directions, but I didn't relish being the lone man asking for directions to a notorious strip club at midnight. Sighing, I stepped out to the curb and resigned myself to the frustration of a ride in a foul smelling cab with what was sure to be a surly, sweaty, bald, middle-aged French Canadian man.

I was pleasantly surprised to see the cab that stopped in front of me was being driven by a gorgeous South American woman in her early thirties. I made idle small talk with her, and she didn't seem terribly surprised or shocked at my destination, but I suppose as a taxi driver you must meet all kinds. As we pulled up into the parking lot of the establishment, I thanked her and gave her a generous tip before wandering inside.

I was instantly overloaded by the heady combination of lust and drunkenness, the smells of liquor and body odours, even bodily fluids –which I really didn't want to dwell on–and the deep throbbing bass of the music that was being blasted throughout the club. I made my way between the crowds and grinned as I saw a familiar figure sitting dead centre at pervert's row. I could feel his lust and mischievousness rolling off of him in waves as he kicked out the chair next to him, never taking his eyes off of the voluptuous blond who was writhing around the pole on stage.

"Major," he acknowledged as I sat down beside him. I could see a shit-eating grin playing across his face from my peripheral vision. I found myself too preoccupied to really look over at him as the rhythmic gyrations of the dancer on stage completely captivated me. She was untying her top while suspended upside-down from the pole with her hair hanging down almost to the ground and her breasts gently swaying nearly hypnotically with her movements. I was being hypnotised by a pair of tits.

"Fucker," I greeted in reply as I pulled a strangely coloured $50 bill from my wallet and waved it at the dancer. Fucking Canadians and their fucking Monopoly money. The pinkish hue seemed to attract her attention though, so I supposed there was some bonus.

"So I see you've finally decided to take a break from attempting the record for most self-induced orgasms in one day to spend some time with your brother." I looked down at my watch and noted that it was now just after midnight. I grinned at him and responded in kind.

"Well, it is a new day, just thought I could use some inspiration to help me achieve my goals. Now, as the reigning champion, do you have any advice?"

Peter barked out a short laugh and turned to me. "Lubricant. Now, if you're getting lonely I could always loan you my wife. I'm sure she'd be happy for you to throw her across a table and have at it. I mean, you could never compare to me and the purple people eater," he grinned as he grabbed his junk, "but still, variety is nice."

"Fuck your wife, punk," I shot back, shoving my bill into the dancer's thong as she undulated her body, waving her delicious ass in front of my face. Mmm, she smells like peaches. My grin widened as I leaned back in my seat, appreciating the fine specimen of ass that was currently bouncing up and down practically in my lap.

"You would, too." Peter grumbled, and I felt a brief flicker of irritation and protectiveness emanating from him before he covered it with his usual cocky attitude.

"…besides, as fine as your woman is, Char's not my type." I finished, slightly disturbed by Peter's reaction.

Peter's cocky grin shifted into one of his all knowing smirks that said that he knew something that I didn't. "So tell me, Jasper, what is your type these days? Freaky midget cunts? You got a hankerin' to hand your balls over to another controlling bitch?"

"Don't act like Char doesn't keep your balls in a jar on the mantle, fucker." Peter grinned in response and tapped his package as the music changed and another dancer came out on to the stage.

~o_o~

Peter and I enjoyed more than a few glasses of scotch as dancer after dancer paraded across the stage. I definitely had acquired quite a bit of inspiration for the spank bank. While I don't in any way, shape or form miss my bitch of an ex-wife, I do miss the feel of sliding my cock into something other than my fist.

Fucking Bella had been a very, very nice departure from the monotony of masturbation, but I was wary of using that memory as fuel for fucking my hand in the future. It seemed wrong somehow, and I couldn't even begin to fathom what would happen if Edward ever 'heard' me fantasizing about his little innocent and pure Bella Swan. Fucking martyr didn't even know what he was missing. No, it was better to find some new material.

Some time around six or seven in the morning, the emotional atmosphere shifted. The small crowd slowly turned over as many left with feelings of disgust, revulsion, and more than an undertone of judgement. Others filed in to take their place, with feelings of giddiness, lust, amusement and in a few cases, guilt.

I nudged Peter with my elbow and raised a questioning eyebrow. It felt like a completely different type of crowd had settled in, and my brain was too foggy - from a combination of the alcohol that I had drank and the general levels of drunkenness permeating the establishment - to be able to figure it out.

"Oh yeah, since this is a pretty slow time for them, they get some of the freakier acts to come out. Fetish stuff, you know?" Peter explained to me. His grin grew bigger as he waved over a server for another round of drinks.

The scantily clad woman approached our spot in perverts row and began clearing out empty drinks, while Peter leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to her, "Is it true that the next act is a … little person?" She nodded at him disinterestedly and wandered off to get us some fresh drinks.

"Holy shit Jasper! Do you know how long I've been waiting to see a midget stripper? How the fuck old am I, because that's how long. An honest to god midget, Jasper. Fuckin' A! I knew tonight was gonna be big … err, little." He kept rambling on excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat with enthusiasm. I struggled not to jump up and down from the giddiness and anticipation that he was emitting.

I allowed myself to crack a small smile while I contemplated whether my venom had caused him some sort of permanent brain damage. Maybe he had just taken one too many smacks to the back of the head from Char. They were both pretty strong possibilities, but could vampires get brain damage?

"Pocket sized fun, Jasper! You can put 'em in a backpack and carry 'em around for later! You'd pay 'em to go up on you!" Peter's litany of tasteless midget jokes was thankfully interrupted by the return of our server with our drinks. She eyed Peter up and down wearily and paused as if trying to decide whether to say something or not. Her emotions were cycling between disgust, amusement, irritation, and boredom so I sent her a little extra boost of irritation just because I wanted to see her start bitching at Peter.

"I am giving you the warning," she started, with her heavy French Canadian accent. "It is not polite to make the jokes of the little people. I know it is the… how you say, rarity, uh, attraction, like at the circus, the midget stripper, but you should not be the rude man. Our manager, he does not take kindly to the mocking of his dancers." With the end of her little speech, she twirled around with a huff and stormed off towards the bar as Peter shot me an unimpressed glare. I grinned at him and shrugged my shoulders.

"Thanks, asshole." His irritation with me was swiftly overshadowed by his excitement about seeing a real live midget stripper. I could sense his struggle to keep from continuing his filthy, yet admittedly amusing, string of jokes.

"Shit, I fucking wish the wife was here. She's gonna go ballistic when she finds out what she's missing." I eyed Peter strangely. I'm fairly certain that Char would not, in fact, share his joy at the prospect of a midget stripper. Despite all her natural kinkiness, she had never shown any interest in seeing strippers of any kind.

Truthfully, I remember her being so disgusted when Pete and I had gone to see a donkey show in Tijuana that she had actually turned the hose on us. She refused to allow us into her house smelling like "whore on a donkey." She then stormed back into her home, slamming the door so hard it cracked and muttering to herself about how her husband was a fucking ass.

Of course, dumbshit had piped in with "No sweetheart, the fucking ass was the show!" Needless to say, Charlotte was not impressed and Peter was not getting laid for a long while.

That incident in mind, I couldn't understand why Char would have wanted to see a midget stripper. I was brought out of my thoughts by the dimming of the lights around the stage. A booming voice cut in over the music announcing Tiny Tina who had a special surprise in store for all of us.

Peter's excitement went through the roof and I had to grip my chair tightly in my hands to keep from bouncing up and down in my seat as I absorbed his frenzy of enthusiasm. As the first few notes of music hit our ears, however, his enthusiasm shifted into dread so fast it nearly have me whiplash.

Peter put his head in his hands and started shaking it back and forth, muttering to himself. "No, no, no, nooooooo…" he chanted as the familiar strains of the Imperial March sounded throughout the club.

"No, no, no…I swear to all that is holy, please no. I will stop stealing my wife's panties, will stop hitting on her servers, I will fucking eat animals. Just no, please, no…"

I chuckled under my breath at Peter's obvious distress and then nearly fell out of my chair as I looked up at the stage.

"Oh, for the love of—"

"That is just fucking wrong!"

Standing there on the stage directly in front of us, wearing face paint and what can only be described as some sort of furry belt-slash-underwear thing was Tiny Tina. The word _felkin_ flashed across the back of my consciousness, and I shuddered at the fact that there even was a word to describe all of the wrongness of that outfit. It was a midget stripper, dressed up as an –

"EWOK!" Peter shrieked as he jumped to his feet, sending his chair flying backwards.

He was right; she was dressed up as an Ewok. There is no word for how wrong that was, or for how much I was enjoying Peter's obvious discomfort. Fun fact: despite his reputation as a badass, fearless vampire soldier, he was fucking terrified of Ewoks. It was kind of ironic, really, that a man with the nickname Yoda would have a pathological fear of a race of fuzzy little bear-like creatures from the same movies.

"Why! Why would you do that! You're a fucking Ewok! All I wanted to see was a midget take her clothes off, and you've ruined it for me, you tiny little pocket-sized freak!" He was screaming hysterically at the poor stripper as everyone else in the club seemed frozen in shock. I was double over my chair, laughing hysterically; if I was capable of producing tears they would probably be running down my face.

Unsure of what to do, Tiny Tina took a step towards him, which was apparently the wrong thing to do. Peter ripped his jacket off and threw it at the poor girl, screaming at her to put it on and 'hide her shame'. What the fuck, Peter?

As his hysterical (in both senses) tirade continued, the crowd began to grow uneasy, and security finally sprang into action. I knew they were going to try and drag him outside, and I also knew that in his state he'd probably resist and potentially hurt the humans, so I sent him a huge dose of lethargy. Peter's ranting finally came to a stop and he swayed unsteadily on his feet as the two burly bouncers reached him. They easily mistook his swaying and incoherency as signs of drunkenness, and promptly dragged him outside into the parking lot, yelling at me to follow. Surprise, surprise, they called the cops on us.

Peter was still shaken from the combination of the Ewok-stripper, his outburst and the lingering effects of the lethargy I had dosed him with. The bouncers forced him face down on to the ground and told me to sit down and shut the fuck up until the cops showed. Peter was feeling panic and disgust, as well as irritation and betrayal. Oops, I sent him a wave of apology by way of making up for the fact that I was still laughing at him.

"Fuck, they've called the cops. You had better call Char." Peter slurred out, presumably trying to play off his earlier outburst as the result of all the alcohol we had consumed. Sure, we were a little buzzed, but I'm not sure a vampire could actually get _that_ drunk. Consuming large quantities of alcohol gave us a pleasant, relaxed feeling but we didn't get the disorientation and loss of motor function that humans seemed to experience.

I patted down my pockets, looking for my cell phone and came up empty.

"Fuck, I must have left my phone at the hotel."

I looked over at the remaining bouncer who was leaning over Peter's prone form with one knee pressing into his back, attempting to keep Peter face down and immobile in the parking lot. Of course, it wouldn't actually stop Peter if he wanted to get away, but the bouncer couldn't have known that.

"Uh, could I use his phone to call his wife?" I asked of the body-builder wannabe. He gruffly nodded and began patting down Peter's ass, presumably looking for his phone.

"Front left pocket" muttered Peter, and I laughed even harder as he began to grow increasingly more uncomfortable. I sent the bouncer a little wave of lust and Peter growled at me when the bouncer's hand seemed to linger in any one spot for too long.

I caught the phone as the bouncer flung it at me, he was feeling pissed off, confused and embarrassed now that my influence had been removed. Flipping the phone open, I laughed at Peter's background which was a close-up of a nipple. I pulled up the recent call log, figuring that was the fasted way to get to Char's number. The first name on the log was "Wifey" so I quickly selected it and hit send.

The phone rang a few times, and then it was answered with a few muffled noises in the background followed by an incredibly unexpected voice flowing out of the speaker.

"_Hey babe, miss me already?"_

I gasped in shock as I registered who the voice belonged to. "Bella?"

"Oh, shitballs" I heard Bella and Peter simultaneously mutter before I heard a clattering noise coming through the speaker on the phone.

"What the fuck, Peter?" I roared, ignoring the shouting of the police officers who had just arrived on the scene. Peter was feeling pissed off and scared, and I could hear a fearful hitch in Bella's breath as I held the phone out and waved it at Peter accusingly.

"Look Jasper, calm down, there's an explanation for all of this," he pleaded with me, sensing that I was about to flip my shit on him.

"An explanation, really, well then do enlighten me as to why the fuck _my_ Bella is in your phone under 'Wifey'" I shouted, spitting venom into his face as I knelt down to his level. I shocked myself a bit by calling her my Bella, but I would have to file that away for later.

"_Because I am his wife_," I heard Bella responding with anger lacing her tone. Peter glared at me for my use of the possessive when referring to Bella.

"_Now, I assume you're calling me for a reason, Jasper, so stop with all the fucking shouting and get on with it, because I'm hungover as fuck and I'm at the grocery store with my brother. I'm assuming that Peter has gotten you guys arrested?"_

Brother, huh? What the fuck? A police officer was now grabbing onto my shoulders and attempting to pull me back from my position of kneeling in front of Peter.

"Uh yeah, looks like."

"Monsieur, Sir, please hang up your phone," the cop behind me politely pleaded. Canadians are nothing if not polite.

"_Do you know what station they are taking you to?"_ I relayed the question to the cop who was beginning to grow impatient with me.

"Uh, Cité Central apparently,"

"_Ok, I'll arrange to have bail posted for you both. What the fuck did he do this time?"_

I was still caught off-guard by her casual use of profanity and her easy acceptance of the fact that her husband was being arrested, apparently not for the first time since she met him. Of course, this was Peter, so being arrested wasn't particularly unusual.

"There was an incident at a strip club." I scratched the back of my neck, feeling inexplicably uncomfortable about the prospect of telling Bella that we had been staring at naked women for the last seven hours. It seemed kind of pathetic and creepy.

"_Oooh! Were you at Club Super Sex? I love that place,_" she squealed through the phone. I shot a quizzical look over at Peter, wondering if he had been talking about Bella when he said his wife would go ballistic about missing out on the midget stripper. He was still radiating anger at me, but he managed a smirk as the police dragged him to his feet. His hands had been cuffed behind his back and they were leading him towards the backseat of a cruiser.

"Yeah, we were. So, there was this midget stripper, and…"

"_Aaaagh! I missed a midget stripper! Seth, Peter got to see a midget stripper in Montreal!_" She sounded almost like she was hyperventilating and I was glad I couldn't' feel her emotions over the phone because I think her excitement would probably rival Peter's.

"Calm down sugar, you didn't miss anything worthwile, well except for Peter flipping his shit when she came out dressed as an Ewok."

"_Eww, that's sick!_" She paused and took a breath, "_is he alright?"_ She sounded genuinely concerned and it made me wonder how long they had known each other that she knew these kind of details, it wasn't the kind of thing he usually advertised.

"Sir, you need to get off your phone and come with me." The police officer tried to interrupt me again, and I growled deeply at the disruption.

"Listen, darlin', they want to read me my rights. Can you arrange bail?"

"_Yeah, sure,_" she responded quietly and then hung up on me.

~O-o~

I soon found myself handcuffed and mirandized in the back of a police cruiser beside my brother of sorts. He turned his head to look at me, emanating a strange combination of apprehension, anger and frustration.

"I thought I told you to call Charlotte, not my wife!" he exclaimed at me. The cop in the passenger seat clanged his flashlights against the grill separating the front seats from the back and told us to shut the fuck up.

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence as I stewed over this new information. Bella and Peter were married. What about Char? I can't see Peter ever abandoning his mate, actually I don't think it's even possible for a vampire to abandon their mate.

If Peter was Bella's husband, it had been him on the phone at the bar. I realised that he had also been the one to pick her up from my house. Why hadn't I recognized his voice either time, and why hadn't I noticed that Bella was wearing a wedding ring?

"Peter?"

"Hmm…" I could feel his anger and irritation with me bubbling under the surface, but I just couldn't help myself.

"I had sex with your wife."

"I know." He frowned at me.

"I didn't know she was your wife."

"I know."

"Why didn't I notice her wearing a wedding ring?"

"I think you should worry more about what else you aren't noticing," he replied and his anger spilled over as he head-butted me in the face at vampire speed so the police wouldn't notice.

"Mother of fuck," I swore as I felt my cheekbone crack from the impact.

"This isn't over" Peter muttered, just as the police pulled up at the station.

* * *

So, no cliffy this time (yay?), and hopefully you've got a bit more of an idea of what's going on here. As for the whole Ewok-midget-stripper thing... I believe that stitch_cat is to blame for that... she sent me a challenge to include a felkin (there is a photo) in my next chapter, and so... I took it a little further than expected.

Things I googled for this chapter:  
Streets in Montreal (This was a really sad thing to have to google, but really, I just wanted to look at google streetview of Montreal b/c its an awesome city)

Actually, yeah I think that's all I googled.

And about the monopoly money comment on the canadian money. I'm Canadian, I'm allowed to make fun of it. Plus, in Australia, their money is both colourful AND waterproof... so yeah. Canada seems a bit less lame now, right?

Will update on Twiwrite (dot) net and Fresh Squeezed Lemons tomorrow, today I require more coffee and cigarettes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Dark Temptation**

Massive apologies for the delay in posting, but life got in the way. Also, I have not been super satisfied with this chapter and was struggling with how to fix it. In the end, I decided to run it by the Merry to my Christmas, the illustrious **Leelan Oleander** who said that I was getting worked up over nothing and that the chapter was ok. So if you don't like it, it's all her fault.

A little recap will remind you that we last left Bella in the grocery store with Seth picking up breakfast ingredients, and we left Jasper and Peter on their way to a Canadian jail cell after the Midget-Ewok fiasco.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin'.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 9**

**BPOV**

I clicked my phone shut and slid it back into my pocket as I stood beside the meat counter in Forks' only grocery store, staring off into space. I knew that I looked more than a little bit crazy, my mouth flapping open and closed like a fish as I struggled to make sense of the clusterfuck that was just dropped on my head.

"I… he… oh, motherfuck me," I muttered under my breath.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is all just way too fucking screwed up. I looked over at Seth with an expression of abject horror painted across my face. Traitorous little shit that my brother was, he was too busy cracking up at the thought of the big, bad vampire freaking out about a midget stripper dressed as an Ewok to offer me any sympathy.

"Prick!" I hissed at him.

He turned to look at me and started laughing even harder at the expression on my face.

"C'mon, B, you gotta admit that's pretty fuckin' funny!"

I struggled to keep a stern expression on my face, but I finally broke and joined in the laughter.

"I mean, a fucking Ewok? Why the fuck would anyone dress up like that and think it's sexy? I mean, maybe it would appeal to those people who like to have sex while wearing giant animal costumes, but at a strip club? Canadians are fuckin' weird," Seth continued, but then we both stopped laughing as our faces screwed up in disgust at the mental image.

"Ewwww, Seth, now I'm picturing Deputy Mark dressed up like a giant kangaroo with a suspiciously placed marsupial pouch." I shuddered at the idea and wondered why I had thought of Deputy Mark for that disturbing scenario.

"Hur, hur, wanna be my joey?" Seth responded and then we looked at each other and resumed our hysterical laughing.

"Fuck, I hate being a visual person sometimes. The details, oh god, I can picture the details." I cringed and we both shuddered again. I knew that Seth was a very visual person as well, which could serve as both a blessing and a curse. Especially the latter in light of our vivid mental imagery of Deputy Mark and… oh ew.

"Bella? Bella Swan? Oh my god is that you?" A shrill nasally voice rang out from behind us, completely deflating our little bubble of levity and bringing us crashing back to reality.

I met Seth's eyes and he shrugged apologetically as he backed away from me, turning around and pretending to be absorbed in the display of oranges. I wasn't fooled though, I knew he would be listening to the whole encounter, he just didn't want to get sucked into what was sure to be a vapid and painful conversation.

"Ohmigod! Laura, was it? Hi!" I chirped at her as I plastered on an overly cheerful and fake grin. Turning to face her, I nearly snorted aloud as I caught sight of the worst boob job I've ever seen. Her nipples, which could be seen through her barely there halter top, were not merely pointing away from each other, it was as if they were trying to escape each other. One was pointing up and to the left, while the other was clearly at least three inches lower, and pointing down. It was hideous, but I couldn't stop looking at them. It was like she put balloons under her shirt; it was a train wreck and I just couldn't look away.

"Lauren actually, Lauren Skizowskii, née Mallory," she sneered at me.

She was clearly trying her hardest to impress me, but really who introduces themselves that way? I didn't think people actually said née, I've only ever seen it used in obituaries, hmm there's a thought. I smiled at Lauren, trying to convey with my facial expression that I was genuinely interested in her life, while internally I was wondering how they stretched her skin to go from her barely-a-B-cup in high school to covering what could only be described as a double M for mammoth mammaries, or mutilated monsters.

Do they do skin grafts when they do a breast augmentation that large? I got sucked into a WTF-hole pondering the physics of tits that large and perky. Was helium involved?

An impatient huff from Lauren snapped me back to reality and I smiled at her with that same sickeningly fake cheer.

"Sorry, I just noticed that you've had some work done; they're, er, wow!" I cleared my throat and continued, "So you got married, congratulations!"

I nearly choked trying to contain my laughter when she grabbed her tits and made as if she was jiggling them. I found myself simultaneously amused and disturbed by the fact that they moved barely a quarter of an inch. Definitely made of stone, not helium.

"Yes, aren't they nice? My husband got them for me as a wedding gift. He's a plastic surgeon, you've probably heard of him, Dr. Skizowskii?" she bragged at me, apparently proud of her monstrosities. Forget sweater puppies, those things were like sweater Dobermans on steroids!

Dr. Skizowskii, the name rang a bell. Oh! Dr. Skeez, he's one of the most infamous plastic surgeons on the west coast, and considering that included California, that was really saying something. He was currently under investigation for a number of things including allegedly videotaping himself titty-fucking a number of his patients while they were still under anaesthetic during post-op. Allegedly, one of his patients had contracted gonorrhea from him when he ejaculated all over her incision site post-vaginaplasty. There were also numerous complains of him 'enhancing' his patients far beyond their requests. Apparently he has a thing for freakishly large titties, which clearly explains Lauren's 'situation'.

"Oh yes, well congratulations! It seems as if you're doing very well for yourself. He has quite the reputation," I deadpanned, assuming correctly, that she would completely ignore the backhandedness of the compliment. She was too busy flashing her ring right in front of my face. It looked like her hand was having a seizure.

Her ring was a monstrosity, and the fact that it was genuinely hideous was the only genuine thing about it. It had a very large and very obviously fake diamond. The face of the stone was nearly a third of an inch in diameter, and I was wondering how much it damage I would inflict if I grabbed her hand out of my face and used it to make her bitch slap herself.

"So, what have you been doing with yourself? You disappeared so suddenly after you had been hospitalized. Rumour was that you had been institutionalised, but of course, _I_ told everyone that was bullshit because there was no way your father could have afforded to have you sent to a mental institution. I mean, police officers don't really make much money, do they?" Lauren was simpering at me, I think she was trying to be sympathetic, but she just sort of came across as 'bitch'.

I gritted my teeth and smiled at her. I have never, ever, had to struggle so hard in my life not to punch a bitch in the face. At the same time, I was struggling not to get sucked into the memories of the months I spent in the hospital. It was a time in my life I would just as soon forget, but everywhere in Forks I turned there were reminders of one of the worst things that ever happened to me.

When Jacob and the boys had rushed me to the hospital, I was delirious. My body had endured so much trauma and I had lost so much blood that apparently I had been babbling on about red-headed bitches, stupid sparkly eunuchs and hairy wolf balls, much to the Pack's amusement. Amidst the chaos of my arrival, the emergency staff had written off my rambling as a side-effect of the closed-head trauma I had sustained, but when I had 'recovered my faculties' (their words, not mine) I was questioned in detail and was forced to feign ignorance and memory loss. I knew that my ranting had fuelled at least some of the rumours circulating around town about the cause of my injuries.

When I had arrived in hospital, they had initially transported me to Seattle, but after a week they had me moved back to Forks General Hospital, amidst unwelcome mutterings of "Dr. Cullen would know how to treat this" from the staff. I spent three months in a hospital bed, rendered practically immobile from a combination of heavy casts and a fear of ripping out all my stitches, not to mention the excruciating pain I was in.

There was never really an official story circulated to explain why I had been found on the shore of First Beach, nearly dead, but I'm sure the small-town gossip mill had drawn its own conclusions, none of which I had stuck around to hear. The hospital records suggested an ill-advised and unsupervised swim during inclement weather had been the root source of my injuries, but that didn't explain the claw marks that stretched down one side of my body, or the giant wounds on my side and back that could only be described as giant bite marks. Of course, there was nothing in Clallam County that could leave marks like that, so it was written off as the impact of a peculiar arrangement of rocks.

I forced myself to focus back on the matter at hand; this was one of the fun parts about running into bitches from high school like Lauren. I wracked my brain for a good story, knowing that anything I told Lauren would be known by the whole town in a matter of hours. I amped up my smile until I thought my face would split in two as I fabricated a story for her, thinking it was a good thing I've learned how to lie better in the last few years.

"Oh, well after everything, I ended up in Los Angeles for a change of scenery, you know, small town life can be so dull. Anyway, that's where I met Crystal, she's a yoga instructor for Hollywood celebrities. We've been married for two years now, and we just adopted a little Chinese girl, Ling-Ling. Asian babies are so stylish these days, you know. We considered adopting an African or Indian girl, but their hair is just so unmanageable you know." I grinned at her before I continued in a conspiratorial whisper, "Plus, African babies are SO Madonna, how last year, right?" I looked at Lauren expectantly, as if she absolutely should have an opinion about the ridiculous crap I was spouting. I smiled sweetly as I tried to pretend that I would cherish any wisdom she could impart on me.

Lauren sputtered for a moment, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I, yes, well, isn't that just lovely?" she recovered with a slight sneer. I had definitely knocked her off balance and I could tell she was frustrated by it. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to figure out a way to save face and come out feeling superior about our encounter.

She chanced a glance down at my hand and grinned in triumph, seeing the understated but elegant setting of ruby and diamonds nested in a white gold band

"Oh, what an adorable little ring you have there. I considered asking Larry, that's my husband, to put some sapphires on my ring, but really I think simplicity and class are the best way to go."

I glanced down at her hand where her garishly huge fake diamond was caught in the polyester of her skirt and was slowly tearing at the fabric. Wow, she sure has a fucked up idea of what constitutes class.

"Oh absolutely, Lauren, I wouldn't have wanted some big monstrosity of a ring, so when Crystal proposed to me, I told her we absolutely HAD to have Whitlock diamonds. My wife and I are very close with the owner, you know." I giggled internally as I thought of just how close to the owner I was. Lauren gasped at began to turn a disconcerting shade of green with envy.

Whitlock diamonds were extremely rare and extremely expensive, well, unless your husband owns the company. Peter and Charlotte had learned a few decades back about the struggles that occurred around the world that were fuelled by the diamond industry and were simply appalled at the concept of blood diamonds. They decided to start their own diamond extraction and distribution empire, which sourced diamonds using ethically and politically neutral or beneficial policies as well as making strides towards curtailing the environmental impacts of the mining process. As a result of their focus on quality and socially responsible production over higher yielding processes, Whitlock diamonds have a reputation for extremely high quality and consequently an extremely high price tag. Of course, due to the meticulous standards their products had to meet for commercial resale, production levels were low and Whitlock diamonds had become somewhat of an elusive luxury.

I doubted that Lauren had ever seen a Whitlock diamond in person before, and I could see that she was simply sick with jealousy that 'poor little Bella Swan' had something she never would. Aside from class and dignity, that is. It's not that I cared about the status symbol that my ring would represent to people like Lauren, but I must admit it was nice to put her in her place for once.

"So, do you keep in touch with Edward Cullen? I heard that he and his sister, the one with the weird spiky hair, were in town recently and asking after you. I can't imagine why he even dated you in the first place." Lauren flicked her hair haughtily, as if my former relationship with Doucheward was some sort of personal insult to her, which I suppose it was considering how many times she had thrown herself at him.

Suddenly inspired, I giggled and leaned over to conspiratorially whisper in Lauren's ear, just loud enough that Seth could pick it up as well.

"You know, when his family moved away, he told me that I wasn't what he wanted, that he was tired of pretending to be something he was not." Lauren began to smile as I weaved my tale and she seemed to expect that the next words out of my mouth would be a confession of his undying love for her. She was in for quite a shock and I found myself even more eager to continue my story for her.

"It turns out that I was just his beard, you know, his cover so that no one found out he was gay? I, of course, was devastated, as you'll remember. Rumour has it that he tried to make a career in gay porn when his family moved to L.A., but a friend of mine told me that they told him that his dick was too small for porn, poor guy." I mock sympathised, inwardly laughing and wishing I could see Edward's face when he next returned to Forks and heard the fuckery that I was spreading.

Lauren gasped in horror as Seth burst out into laughter.

"Well, Whoren, I must be going, do take care of yourself. Oh! If you do see Edward again, tell him that he should try auditioning for tranny porn. I've heard they have less strict standards on size, and he always ways pretty enough to be a girl." I grinned widely and waved regally as I hooked my other arm through Seth's and dragged him away while he practically convulsed with his fits of laughter.

"Thanks for saving me back there you little piece of turd," I hissed at Seth as I whirled around the store picking up eggs, cheese, milk, bacon and some fresh fruits for breakfast.

"I swear to Gord, Seth, you are such a little piece of shit and if you don't stop laughing I'm not making you breakfast." We soon found ourselves standing in the checkout line while I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for Seth to calm down. Normally, I would find this whole situation a lot more amusing, and oh, it was fucking hilarious, but right now it was all too much at once, and I had only had one cup of coffee this morning.

~O-o~

I pulled into Charlie and Sue's driveway and was mildly surprised to see Charlie standing on the front patio, arms crossed over his chest and moustache twitching away angrily. Oh shit.

"Where have you been, young missy?" Charlie growled out at me, I really hope he's upset about me drinking so much last night. Please be upset about me drinking, please don't let the rumour mill be THAT efficient.

"Grocery store?" I squeaked out as Seth and I started pulling bags out of the back seat.

"Run into anyone there?" Charlie's eyes narrowed at me as his moustache began twitching even more furiously. I knew that he wasn't fond of my crazy stories, but what the fuck was I supposed to tell people. I suppose it was unfair that he had to deal with the backlash, but if I told people the truth I would be committed, or worse.

"Umm…. No?" I looked to Seth for some help, but once again the traitorous bastard was making a retreat. His shoulders were shaking with barely suppress laughter as he made his way into the house with his arms full of groceries. "Seth, you traitor! Help me out here!"

"No, no, little girl. I believe this is between, you, me and my new grand-daughter, Ling-Ling?"

I gulped nervously and shuffled my feet in the dirt, suddenly very interested in the evenness of the gravel on the driveway.

"Ummm… I can explain, really, Charlie." I took a deep breath to steady myself and opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything, Charlie was doubled over on the porch with his hands on his knees, tears streaming down his face.

"Charlie?"

His twitching moustache finally resolved itself into a broad grin as his laughter rang out across the yard. "Seriously, Bella, I don't know where you come up with this shit, but you could warn a guy first. Deputy Mark called to congratulate me on my new granddaughter, and to ask why I wasn't shouting the news from the rooftops. I was completely blind-sided and almost blew your story before explaining that we wanted to keep things quiet until the adoption was finalised."

Charlie was shaking his head as he reached out and wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me into the house.

"Speaking of unexpected surprises, there is a message on the answering machine, from the police, in Canada. It seems your husband just can't keep himself out of trouble." Charlie laughed as he hit play on the machine and we listened to the bewildered cop explaining that there had been an incident with a midget, and could I please come get my husband and his brother. Great.

At least Charlie has a sense of humour about these things, though I'm not sure he would be so forgiving if he and Peter hadn't become such good buddies, or if he knew that Peter's supposed brother was a Cullen.

* * *

For the record, this is not what I meant to write for this chapter, but I was working on it on an airplane and there was this Imam or something sitting next to me who kept telling me how good it was for women to practice the creative arts. So, yeah maybe I found that super condescending and decided to make this a bit more ridiculous than it had to be, much like Lauren Mallory's tits. The whole weird thing about the diamonds was sparked by a conversation I had with a good friend recently. Her ex-boyfriend refused to buy diamonds because he was really upset by the thought of conflict diamonds, and I can't blame him (even if she did... can't blame a girl for liking her sparkly), so I thought it would be interesting if the Whitlocks had an opinion on it as well. Lame? Let me know.

No google list for this chapter, because I freestyled it, but I will give you some insight into my musical inspiration for this chapter: Lily Allen - It's Not You It's Me; Mumford & Sons - Sigh No More; and some kickass cover songs including U2 performing Beat On The Brat (with a baseball bat) - best U2 song ever and they didn't write it. Why doesn't that surprise me. Also, Highway 61 Revisted performed by Cat Power and a LOT of Bob Marley.

And now for some recs for this chapter is **The Quiet Room** by **gimmesomevamp**, it's an epically twisted, dark and hilarious Bella/Jasper fic that is almost completed - she only has the epi left to post. So check it out, you will laugh, you will cry, you will go "Peter, what the fuck?"

And, have you ever wanted to read Elvisward? I didn't know that I did, but there's an Elvisward fic out there and it's kinda awesome and kinda well written. It's called **Hunk O' Burnin' Love** and it's by **AS Presley**, a collab effort between **Robicorn **and my ficsis **MzBionic**.

This story is also available on twiwrite (dot) net and Fresh Squeezed Lemons


	10. Chapter 10

**Dark Temptation**

Ok so, long story short, I fail a bit at updating this story. There are a lot of excuses/reasons for not updating, least of which being holidays, work deadlines, and the demise of **Leelan Oleander**'s laptop. I couldn't post without her approval, and she couldn't approve it without a laptop so... You see the problem right? Excellent excuses. Seriously though, I'm going to try harder to update more regularly, but I make not promises. **Dandiegoose** also waved her magic wand over this chapter for me, and made it awesomer.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin'.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 10**

**JPOV**

I breathed in deeply and sighed, scrubbing my hands through my hair for what felt like the millionth time. We'd been sitting here for hours, Peter and I. Hours. Hours of strained silence; the fucker wouldn't look at me, wouldn't talk to me and I was afraid of opening my mouth in case I earned myself another broken cheekbone. Not that it was really that much of an inconvenience, but that shit hurt and probably wouldn't endear us any further to Montreal's finest. Hell, I probably deserved worse than a broken cheekbone.

Even if I didn't understand why Bella was married to Peter, it still didn't negate the fact that I'd slept with another man's wife; with my brother's wife. I may be a cold-hearted bastard at times, hell most of the time, but I was raised in the South and I was supposed to have manners. I was supposed to respect women, not bend them over a goddamned desk without stopping to make sure they were unattached first. You just don't disrespect a person like that. If my momma were alive to see me now, she'd box my ears for sure, even if it wasn't the worst thing I'd ever done.

Somehow I think my dear, sweet momma would more easily forgive the atrocities I had committed in my time with Maria than the transgressions I had made against Bella and Peter. My momma was a fierce woman who was both proud and terrified for me the day I'd marched out of town to join the Confederate Army. She had always said that there was pride in being a soldier even if there was no dignity in battle. She would never have forgiven me for what I had done to Bella, though. First, I nearly killed her, leading to her abandonment by the love of her life and the family that she had come to love as her own. Then I had taken advantage of her and manipulated her emotions to my own advantage. I sighed deeply once again and hung my head in my hands as I perched on the edge of the suspiciously stained bench I was occupying in our cell.

I must have been projecting my feelings of shame and guilt because I heard Peter shift on his bench across from me. He huffed in annoyance as I looked up at him from the other side of the cell.

"For fuck's sake, Jasper. Stop being so fucking emo; I'm the one who's going to have to explain to my Chief of Police father-in-law why I was arrested for attacking a stripper. You've done nothing wrong in this situation except fail to use your voodoo magic to diffuse the situation." Peter grumbled at me, annoyance seeping out of his every pore.

I snorted a little bit at the image of any interaction between the sedate and steadfast Charlie Swan and the mischievous trickster that I sometimes called my brother. Thinking of Charlie made me think about how he'd feel about the way I'd treated his daughter, and the shame and self-loathing returned full force, battering away any lingering mirth at Peter's predicament. I adjusted my posture and leaned back against the rough cinder-block wall of our jail cell. My head hit the wall with a loud thunk as I stared up at the ceiling, as if I honestly thought it could give me some answers or absolve me of my guilt.

"She's stronger than you give her credit for, you know. As much as it pisses me off to say it, I doubt you could make her do anything she didn't want to." Peter was sounding uncharacteristically sober and serious as he levelled me with his sympathetic gaze. I could still feel some irritation and animosity welling under the surface, but I had to give him credit for trying.

"She's a strong, fierce and proud woman, and when she sets her mind to it, she will find a way to beat you down, through words or actions."

I nodded, agreeing with Peter's statement and accepting it for the olive branch that it represented, no matter how temporary. From what I'd seen of Isabella these past few days, her backbone was made of stronger stuff than most vampires, and she had to be a saint of some sort to tolerate Peter.

"I have a feeling she'd have no problem breaking her hand to punch me in the face, just to prove that she could," I assented. Peter snorted and I rolled my head to face him so that I could meet his amused expression.

"Wouldn't be the first time; she socked a werewolf right in the nose once. She broke three bones but swears ti was worth it. Hell, I would pay good money to see her do it again just so I could capture the mutt's facial expression on a camera this time." Peter was snickering to himself as I felt a low, rumbling growl build up in my chest at the thought of Bella in close proximity to a werewolf.

Peter held his hands up in surrender as he continued to laugh.

"Hey now, it ain't my fault that little girl attracts mythological creatures like I collect belt buckles." He looked down towards his crotch and frowned, as if he only suddenly remembered that they had confiscated his belt when he was booked.

I sighed, realising that there was nothing I could do about Bella's status as a danger magnet at this moment. However, with Peter in a chatty mood, I realised that this could be a good time to learn more about Bella's life. Peter had told me that both Bella and Char were hours away when we were arrested, so I knew that we still had time to kill. I attempted to subtly push out encouraging feelings to Peter as I tried to figure out where to start.

"You know," I drawled out, as if this was just idle speculation and chatter and not a fact-finding mission that was deeply important to me, "when I was in that bar where she works, I overheard a man offering her a full scholarship to do an MBA. I could feel from his emotions that he had no ulterior motives, why would Bella decline his offer?" I decided it was best to start of innocently enough, but I could sense from the glint in his eyes that Peter could see through to _my_ ulterior motives at the abrupt change in topic. I tried to feign nonchalance, but for some reason I found myself waiting with (figuratively) baited breath to learn more about the enigma that was Bella Swan. Err, Bella. I didn't know what last name she went by now that she was married to Peter, since he usually had at least two or three aliases at any given time.

"Fuck if I understand the female mind. She just doesn't want to, and even without the scholarship she knows that I would happily fund any education she wanted to pursue. That girl has never asked another person for a dime, and I'm proud of her for that, even if it is unnecessary. She's built the life that she wants on her own two feet and, well fuck, she's got me…what else could she possibly need?" Peter grinned and waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively, at which I barely managed to supress another growl.

I couldn't understand the possessiveness I felt at the insinuation that her husband, no matter how inconceivably that title fell to Peter, was meeting her needs in that way.

"Being a barmaid? Serving drinks? How is that fulfilling! Shouldn't you be providing for her so that she doesn't need to debase herself in such a menial way?" I blurted out the words. By the stiffening of Peter's frame and the rage he was emitting, I realised that I perhaps should have thought through my words more carefully.

"She owns that bar, dickweed. If you had spent more time paying attention to your surroundings and less time trying to get into my wife's panties, you might have noticed how much of her personality that place encapsulates. Of course, you like to play with your food, not get to know it, don't you?" Peter was practically growling at me, but it felt like my vast vampire brain was stuck on the most inconsequential details.

"She owns a bar?" I spat out, immediately cringing as I realised once again how thoughtless and condescending my words sounded.

"Well, technically, the bar is in my name because…." He paused at this and stopped, as if checking himself from saying more than he intended to. "Well, for various reasons, but yes. She had her hand in every part of that venue, stubborn woman wouldn't let me do anything other than sign my name and fill in on occasion as a relief bartender." I felt a trickle of deceit from Peter as he tripped over his words, but I was so full of awe and confusion that I couldn't focus on it. I had a premonition that was something I would come to regret.

"So, how did you meet Bella? I just don't understand why two are married." If Peter took offence to my insinuation, he certainly didn't show it. Charlotte was his mate, and I couldn't fathom how he could have married someone else.

Peter looked down thoughtfully, a wave of sadness washing over him as he pursed his lips in thought. It looked to me as if he were carefully contemplating what he was going to tell me, a decidedly un-Peter-like characteristic.

"I…" he paused, clearly thinking through his words again before he continued, and I leaned forward in anticipation of the words that would follow. Peter took a deep, unnecessary breath before he locked gazes with me.

"The Isabella Swan that I met had absolutely no one in the world to turn to. She wasn't the confident, sassy spitfire that she is now, and she wasn't the shy, gentle soul that I've learned she was before. She was a scared little girl, hiding behind a façade of confidence who had absolutely no one to lean on." He was radiating nearly devastating waves of sadness and anger, laced with a gentle affection that grew into genuine love as the pause stretched on.

"I became that person for her. I held her as she cried, and I raged as she raged at the burden of the hand that fate dealt her. We laughed together at the absurdity of the world, and we nearly broke under the cruelty of that same world."

I opened my mouth to argue, not understanding how she could feel so alone if she still had her father, her other friends back in Forks, but Peter held up his hand to silence me.

"She was stuck in the middle of a world that nobody else could understand or know about. Who could she turn to?" He paused again and smiled softly, "I fell in love with her, so did Charlotte. How could you not? She has the purest soul, despite the hell that she has lived through."

"What hell? What…" My inquisitiveness was once again squashed as Peter cut me off once more.

"I… I can't tell you her story, it is hers alone to share, but I can tell you that the fact that she continues to get out of bed every morning and manages to find a way to look forward to each day… It shows that she is the strongest woman that you or I will ever face." Peter broke down at this point, his breath hitching and his whole body shaking with uncharacteristic sobs. His eyes were shining brightly with tears that would never fall as he smiled up at the ceiling. He was emitting sadness, and anger, and pride. I could only guess that it was pride at her strength, at her ability to continue. I realised at this moment that Peter truly did love her, as the ferocity of his love and sorrow and anger were nearly overwhelming me.

I struggled not to break down myself as I tried to blanket the room in calm and serenity. My gift had the opposite effect on Peter however, as he rushed across the room at a barely human pace and lifted me from the ground. He held me against the wall, pressing his forearm uncomfortably into my throat and I could feel the cinderblocks crumbling behind me at the pressure.

"Don't you dare try to calm me down, you bastard. That girl was broken, _broken,_ when I found her. You think you can just use your emo-powers and make it all go away? Well you can't! Because of you, two of her ex-boyfriends nearly killed her. Because of YOU! It's all your fucking fault, you and that pack of piss-eyed freaks you call a family. You nearly destroyed one of the most beautiful souls that ever existed, all because you wanted to play at being human. You are not the man I used to call my brother."

Peter was hissing in my face, his voice barely audible to human ears as he sprayed venom everywhere. I could feel the conviction behind his words as I crumpled. Oh god, what have I done?

I felt my heart breaking at his words and it felt like I was drowning in my shame. Peter let go of me and stepped away from me in disgust as I crumpled to the floor. I deserved everything he had said and so much more, even if I didn't truly understand what I had done.

Peter turned his back on me, showing how little he regarded me. Just has he was about to reclaim his perch on the bench across from me, both of our heads snapped towards the doors to our cell. The scent of peaches and sweet peas, tempered by a lingering stench of wet dog, floated down the hallway towards our little enclosure. I could feel the apprehension rolling off of Peter, but it was over overpowered by my own self-loathing. How could I face her now? I'd almost rather remain here, wallowing in the putrid stench of vomit and other body odours than face her, knowing that I had caused so much pain.

Her sweet voice wafted down the hallway as she spoke with the clerks about our release.

"Mary-Jane Parker, I'm here to pick up my husband and his brother? I'm so sorry for leaving them here for so long, but I was in the states visiting Peter's Aunt May. She hasn't been the same since Uncle Ben passed. He was shot during an attempted mugging, you know. Peter was right there, and he's never really recovered." She was speaking in hushed tones. I felt waves of sympathy and understanding blossoming from the direction of the front of the station. She was clearly winning over her crowd.

Peter was struggling to maintain his disdainful glare at me, but I could feel the amusement rippling off of him and his eyes were twinkling with his barely supressed mirth.

I swear I was getting emotional whiplash from all these intense shifts in his mood. Peter was filled with so much anger directed at me, but he was a jovial, fun-loving man at heart who was struggling not to find the humour in the situation. I could feel some remaining undercurrents of his brotherly affection as well, though they were muted. I understood that he no longer saw me in the same light; I could see his perspective. After all, he perceived me as having hurt the woman he loved, no matter how complicated the love between them was. I was struggling to understand his amusement, but I found myself distracted from my internal questions as Bella continued pouring out her sob-story to the captive audience at the front desk.

"He acts out sometimes, he doesn't really mean anything by it though. He was an orphan, his parents having died in a car accident when he was quite young, and was taken in by his aunt and uncle. Then he was helpless to do anything when his surrogate father, Uncle Ben, was murdered in front of him. He was understandably devastated, and just as he started to recover, his high school girlfriend, Gwen, was struck by a drunk driver while walking home one night and died. He's always felt responsible for not picking her up from work that day."

She paused at this point and sniffled, I could tell that the clerks were buying into her story as they murmured words of sympathy.

"So, sometimes the burden of that responsibility overpowers him and he does really, really stupid things. I do hope he didn't cause too much trouble this time. Please do let that poor woman know that I'm deeply sorry for my husband's actions, and if there is anything Peter can do to make amends to her, feel free to pass on his contact information."

I snorted out loud as I finally realised what was going on. I quirked my eyebrow at Peter who was still struggling to hold on to his anger and failing pretty miserably.

"Really? Peter and Mary-Jane? I know this wasn't her idea."

Peter finally gave in and raised his hands in surrender, chuckling under his breath.

"Hey, the identities were my idea, but that right there? That story was all her."

I rolled my eyes at Peter and resigned myself to the fact that he would never grow out of his immaturity. He once asked me to have Jenks work up an identity for him under the name 'Peter Peter Pumpkineater'. When he was stopped at the border with that ID, he has told the border security guard that Peter was a family name, on both sides. Yup, we'd been arrested then too and had to burn those identities to get rid of the stigma of being suspected draft-dodgers.

~~.~~

Our release was expedited by Bella's amusing sob story and somehow she even managed to have all charges against us dropped. The sergeant who was on duty released us with a stern glare and a lecture about behaving more respectfully in the future.

As soon as we stepped out the doors and into the cool overcast evening air, I took a deep breath in an attempt to clear the putrid stench of the jail from my nostrils and nearly choked as I recognized the wet dog smell wafting from Bella to be the repugnant trademark stench of the Quileutes. I turned to her and sniffed the air again carefully to make sure that the smell was, in fact, coming from her.

I screwed up my face in disgust and opened my mouth to chastise Bella and warn her about the danger of associating with those out of control pups. "Bella—"

She cut me off with a sharp glare and held her hand up to silence me.

"Jasper Cullen, I see that expression on your face and I know you aren't about to say anything about how badly I smell, right? Because no woman appreciates hearing that."

I was so taken aback by her abruptness and perceptiveness that I didn't even bother to correct her assumption about my affiliation with the Cullens. Peter stood a careful distance back, his nose scrunched up at the smell as well, but his feelings of disgust were smothered by waves of affection and fuckery. And yes, coming from Peter, fuckery actually was an emotion.

"Seriously babe, were you having an orgy, because you reek of wolf."

If I was shocked by Peter's bluntness and his lack of true disgust at this situation, I was even more shocked by Bella's response.

"So sorry, dear. If I'd had more time, I might have showered after I hugged my brother and sister goodbye, but I thought you might want to be bailed out of jail." She was feeling smug. She obviously knew how awful the wolves would smell to vampires.

"By the way, thanks for cutting my time with my family short, asshole. Seth says 'hey' and Leah said to tell you 'go jump in a fucking fire' or something. I think she's warming up to you." Bella smiled genuinely up at Peter as I looked on in confusion. She had siblings who were Quileute wolves, who Peter had met before. None of this made any sense; they should not have been on such good terms.

"Charlie says he's not too old to fire a rifle and that you should watch yourself because his daughter deserves better than some idiot who can't say out of jail."

Peter barked out a loud laugh that echoed around the parking lot as Bella led us towards a small Porsche convertible.

"No he didn't," he shot back, and Bella frowned ruefully and shook her head with a short laugh.

"No, he didn't. He laughed his ass of at you though. I still do not understand how you managed to win him over."

Peter tapped his nose and winked at her knowingly while she huffed in mock exasperation and rolled her eyes before turning to me. She laid a gentle hand on my cheek as she looked up into my eyes.

"Listen, Jasper, I'd like to apologise on behalf of my husband for getting you arrested, but really, you should expect these things by now. You've known him longer than I have, and I'm fairly certain that his idiocy is not a new development."

As Bella addressed me directly for the first time, Peter's words came back to the forefront and I realised how much I owed this woman. Despite Peter's shaking his head behind her and pleading with his eyes for me to shut up, I felt I owed Bella an apology at the very least. It wouldn't be enough, but at least it would be a start. I looked into her eyes and grabbed her hand gently, struggling to portray as much sincerity as possible without using my gift. Bella's carefree demeanour was quickly shadowed by a guarded expression and a strong undercurrent of suspicion.

"Bella, I am so sorry—"

She paused and turned slightly, allowing her eyes to flick back and forth between my face and Peter's guilty stance until her posture abruptly changed. It was as if a light bulb had gone off behind her eyes and they were suddenly sparkling with a ferocity I had only ever witnessed in newborn vampires before. Once again, she shocked the shit out of me and managed to stun me into silent awe at the rage that flowed from every ounce of her being.

She twirled around and I sighed almost imperceptibly as I realised that I was not, in fact, the target of her anger and hatred. At least not at this moment, I added to myself.

"Peter Fucking Whitlock, you son of a bitch!" I watched in shock as she swung her handbag up and smacked him in the back of the head. From the sound of it, and the manner in which he flinched, I was tempted to believe that she had a brick or something stored in that fucking bag. "What the fuck did you say to him? You had no right!"

She was right in Peter's face, yelling at him as if he couldn't crush her without a second thought. The truly surprising thing was when he shrunk back from her tirade; he truly seemed intimidated for a moment, before a similar switch flipped inside of him. He was suddenly right back up in her face yelling and screaming and I was truly concerned that he could end up hurting her.

"I had no right? Me? That's fucking rich, you had sex with my brother!"

"So what!" She was fucking sexy as hell in her fury, staring down a vampire, a seasoned warrior.

"So? You're my fucking wife! I think I deserve a little more fucking respect than that!"

"Why the hell does that bother you so much? It's not like you're exactly faithful either."

"Because he doesn't fucking deserve you. I'm not sharing you with a piece of shit like him. Not after—"

He was silenced by the coldest and most lethal glare I have ever seen. If it was possible, I would have pissed myself at the intensity of her glare and it wasn't even directed at me. I felt shame and fear flood through Peter at the same moment that Bella's emotions abruptly shut off. It was as if she was there, all wrath and brimstone one moment, and then next she simply disappeared.

"Bella?"

I reached out a tentative hand to touch her, to make sure she was okay. Just before my hand made contact with her arm, she reached up to grasp it, never taking her eyes off of Peter.

"Jasper, I assume you have a hotel or something in the city, I suggest you find your way there on your own. It seems my husband and I need to have a little chat, here." She squeezed my hand gently, then let go, completely dismissing me. I saw Peter gulp nervously and I'm ashamed to admit that I turned tail and ran at a barely human pace to escape that confrontation. I did not want to be on the receiving end of her anger, no matter how much I deserved it. It was somehow even more intimidating that I could not actually _feel_ her anger anymore. I wonder if she's always been able to do that.

~D.D~

I quickly hailed a taxi and made my way back to the hotel, lost in thought. I was silent on the way back as I recounted my experiences since running into Peter last night. Never in my life would I have thought that Major Jasper Fucking Whitlock, the God of War, would have been terrified of a mere human girl.

As soon as I thought that, I realised she wasn't just a weak human girl, she was a sharp, intelligent woman who held untold power. She had managed to cut me off from her emotions, and whether it was consciously or unconsciously done, it was a powerful thing. She was a human, surrounded by a vortex of mythical creatures who managed not only to stay alive, but to stay fierce and undaunted in the face of things that would have made a stronger man than I fold. I didn't know the details of what she had been through, but I knew it was enough to make Peter feel pain and rage like I had never experienced from him before at the memory, and yet she showed no weakness.

As I contemplated whether it was stupidity or strength that caused her to face a hot-headed and enraged vampire like Peter without fear, I made my way through the hotel and let myself into my room. I quickly shed my clothes as I continued contemplating the enigma that was Bella Swan-Parker and stepped into the shower. I was eager to wash off all the stress, confusion and smell of jail which was surrounding me.

I idly wondered if Peter had given her the Whitlock name as I adjusted the nozzles in the shower, impatiently waiting for the water to heat up. I felt an unexpected twinge of jealously as I contemplated it being Peter who got to bestow my name upon Bella, and not me. Wait, it's not like I wanted to marry her, right? My cock throbbed at the thought and I frowned down at the traitor.

That would never happen anyway; she had to hate me if I caused her half of the pain that Peter had implied. Even while I tried to convince myself of these truths, the mere thought of her eyes fiercely flashing as she unleashed her rage on me only served to spur me on. My cock hardened even further as images of her flashed through my mind, and my hand slowly travelled down my body for another round of Bella-inspired self-abuse.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I had completely neglected to acknowledge the other presence in my room until a small, cold hand wrapped around my erection and a familiar form pressed up against me in the shower.

"I see you've missed me too, Jazzy-poo," she whispered for behind me, and my wood instantly deflated as I reached down and pushed her hands away from me.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Alice?"

* * *

Ba-dum-bum-chhhhhhh. Did ANYONE see that coming?

I don't know that I had a sound-track for writing this chapter, but I will tell you the AWESOME song that I've been playing a lot lately... It's the new song by the **Lonely Island** called **I Just Had Sex (feat Akon)**, go youtube it. Epic funny. Srs epic funny.

You can also keep an eye open for my Twilight-25 entries which I'm working on. I doubt I'll get them finished by the deadline, but I'm working on it, when the inspiration strikes.

Have you been reading **Behind Enemy Lines** by **Jazzella**, because WOW is it completely insane. You should also check out **When Life Gives You Lemons: Eat Them** by **DreamersDaze**, she's only posted the first chapter so far, but it is going to be superawesome, believe you-me.

PS - OMG I BROKE 100 Reviews! I'm almost at 150! how fuckawesome is that! Also amusing that between and , it actually turned out to be the mac to my cheese, **Leelan Oleander** who was my 100th review. On , I think my 100th review was an anonymous reviewer who was sent over by a friend of mine to cheer me up.

PPPPPPPPPenis, I mean PS - I almost forgot to add in that a) I have a snazzie new banner that was made for me by **ysar** on the graphics team at . Its super awesome, and can be found here: http / bit (dot) ly / gIGOMa

AND, I was recc'd or something'd on Sunday Selections at the Wordy Bitches AKA Fellowship of the Peen blog back in December. I squealed like a little girl for like 10 minutes. Seriously, I was excited. You can check out the feature here: http / wordybitches (dot) com / ?p=1164


	11. Chapter 11

**Dark Temptation**

One of my favourite parts of writing this story is actually getting the chapters back from **Leelan Oleander** who fills my day with laughter and 'WTF' moments. For example, one of her comment bubbles contained the following: '_That's kind of sad. KNUCKLES, GET DOWN AND LEAVE THAT DAMN BAG ALONE! ARGH!'_ This is why I'm madly in love with her, and her cat.

Most of this chapter counts as a 'WTF' moment, so please take that under advisement as a warning for content of a… disturbing nature. Hopefully this chapter will help to fill in some of the backstory and answer some of your questions about 'what the fuck is going on in this damn story?' Holy crap this chapter is long. Seriously, it was going to be short, but instead it was 14 pages.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, and some smexin' and highly disturbing content.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but then I realised, who reads this shit anyway?

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 11**

**BPOV**

I watched Jasper hurry across the parking lot towards the main street and I couldn't help but let out a small giggle.

"Is he…scared of me?" A few more giggles escaped me as my eyes followed his retreating form. He looked somewhere between scared and defeated, with his shoulders hunched up and his head down.

"Well, you are kind of intimidating." Peter rubbed the spot on the back of his head where I had hit him. If I didn't know better, it would almost look like he was wincing.

"But… I'm just a 'weak little human', what is there to be scared of?"

"Hell, Bella, _I'm_ scared of you!"

"Yeah, but…we both know that I will sic Char on you, and that's something worth being scared of, but what does he have to fear from me?" I giggled as Peter gulped at the thought of me siccing Char on him.

"Bella, did you see what just happened? You whacked me on the back of the head hard enough that it actually hurt, and then you got right up in the face of an angry, volatile, human-drinking vampire without even flinching. I doubt you even felt an ounce of fear." Peter scoffed at me, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world, only it wasn't.

"Well, yeah, but I had a brick in my purse." I grinned sheepishly at him as I extracted the offending object and noticed that it was a bit worse for wear. "And besides, I _know_ that you wouldn't hurt me."

Peter glared balefully at the brick in my hand before making a lunge for my keys. Silly bastard, you think you're getting to drive this sweet, sweet rental?

"Nuh-uh, I'm driving." I danced out of his way and slid myself into the driver's seat, making a gesture for him to get in so we could continue our conversation.

"Ok, well I know that I wouldn't hurt you, and you know that, but he doesn't. And he doesn't know you anymore either, which I think is part of what terrifies him so. Edward's Bella would never have acted like that."

I bristled at his words; I was not Edward's Bella. I was not anyone's Bella. I refuse to be treated like some sort of possession. I opened my mouth to protest but I could see Peter raise his hand in my peripheral, part in apology and part to ward off the familiar retort. Instead, I kept silent and manoeuvred my way out of the parking lot and on to the busy downtown street.

"I know, I know, bad choice of wording. What I was trying to say was that you're not the Bella that he knew back in Forks, and so now he doesn't know how to act around you, how to anticipate your moves."

"It's not like he ever knew me that well to begin with," I muttered under my breath, knowing full well that Peter could still hear me with his super-vampire hearing.

"You'd be surprised; he's always been an avid observer of others' behaviour, preferring to stand on the periphery than in the center. Unless of course, there's a chance for bloodshed, venomshed, or whatever."

I nodded, remembering how he always seemed to lurk at the edge of the action. He tried to give off an appearance of aloofness and disinterest, but there was always an aura of watchfulness around him, attentiveness perhaps.

"Plus, I might have sort of mentioned that you punched a werewolf. He probably is afraid that you have more balls than him." Peter looked a bit sheepish, but couldn't help but smile at his own joke.

I almost laughed at the thought of that before my brain focussed in on the other part of what he had said. While I weaved through traffic on my way to the airport I reflected on Jasper's expression and demeanour when he first saw me at the jail.

"Peter, what exactly did you say to Jasper? And don't feed me your usual cryptic bullshit, or it won't be your head that gets smashed with a brick next time."

Peter made a strange sort of noise and sucked in a deep breath before glancing at me with no little amount of concern on his face. Somehow, I knew this wasn't just his fear of being bashed in the balls with a brick, he'd had one of his 'feelings' and it wasn't a good one.

"I swear to god, babe, I will tell you everything, but you need to forget that your dad is the Chief of Police for the moment and fucking floor it to the airport. NOW."

As much as Peter pissed me off sometimes, hell, most of the time, I knew that this was one of those instances where I should do exactly as he said. I hit the accelerator and frantically weaved in and out of traffic as my mind spun with possibilities.

"Wha…Why… are they here?" I hissed through my teeth, half in disbelief, half in fear. If it wasn't for Fucktard number 1 here, I wouldn't be in Montreal at all, I'd be safe down at La Push and it wouldn't matter where _they _were because they would never find me there.

"I don't know, it's not clear, but…" Peter scrunched his face up and ran his hands through his shaggy brown hair in frustration. "I can't tell what's going on, but we need to leave, just in case."

I nodded and refocused on my driving, cringing internally as I looked at the speedometer. No matter how many laws I broke on a regular basis, I still respected Charlie's views on responsible driving. Hell, if he knew half of what was going on in my life, he'd probably encourage my identity fraud and other associated transgressions, but would still sternly remind me that "_speed limits are not merely suggestions, Bella._"

Peter was busy on his phone making flight arrangements as I continued my internal war between my fear of disappointing Charlie with my reckless behaviour and my fear of whatever it was that had Peter so spooked. I had a really good idea about what was bothering Peter, so I tapped the accelerator a little harder and prayed that I wouldn't cause an accident or get pulled over.

I finally pulled into the car rental lot at the airport with screeching tires and as we hopped out, I flung the keys at the attendant before Peter and I high-tailed it through the airport. He had managed to find us a flight that left in only twenty minutes, so we were in a rush to check in and clear security before they closed the gate.

O_o;;

Once we were settled on the plane, Peter began to recap his conversations with Jasper. I was still royally pissed off at him for saying anything, but what he did tell him wasn't really all that bad. I sort of understood Peter's view on things; Jasper had hurt me, failed to protect me, left me in danger and then disrespected not only myself but Peter as well. If you looked at things from that perspective, Peter had every reason to be upset, but I had more reason, and it was my life.

I tried to explain it to Peter, but he had a difficult time accepting why I didn't want him to be angry with his brother. In their own weird and fucked-up way, Peter and Charlotte treated me like their sister, which was kind of gross in an incestuous sort of way. Ok, I was their sister, who Peter was married to and who had wild and mind-blowing sex with both of them on a regular basis. Was this a soap opera or just a small town in Alabama?

Ok, yeah, this was gross and incestuous, but it was the way that we worked. They were my older siblings and parents in the same way that Renee had been my mother. They didn't raise me, or discipline me, but they supported me emotionally, looked out for me and took care of me, but I was still my own stubborn and fiercely independent self. Perhaps they were more parents than Renee had ever been, most likely. In return I think I helped to balance them out, especially Peter, and helped rein them in and understand how to blend into humanity more easily.

~ O_O ! ~

As the plane began its final descent into the airport, I reflected back on how I had become involved in this strange relationship. I had encountered Peter one Halloween, and something in the way I blatantly challenged him and called him out on being a vampire got under his skin. I think my impressive array of scars had also sparked his interested. Instead of snacking on me, he bought me a drink and tried to coax my story out of me.

One thing led to another until eventually we were naked in bed and I was riding as if he was the last man on Earth and I was trying to repopulate the planet. Not that that could ever happen, he was a vampire, it's not as if he could some how sire a freaky half-vampire, half-human hybrid. Vampires and werewolves were one thing, but you have to draw the line between supernatural and fantasy somewhere.

So anyway, I'm riding him like there's no tomorrow when suddenly the door bursts open and I realised there may actually be no tomorrow, for me at least. Charlotte was standing there in the doorway, all blonde and perfect and positively feral and I somehow instinctively knew that Peter was her mate and I was in serious trouble.

I automatically scrambled off of him as fast as I could, unfortunately it was at the exact moment he came, spraying sparkly fucking vampire jizz all over me. I'm standing there, in all my glory, sparkly spooge dripping off my hair and face and splattered all over my body and one thought kept running through my head.

Fight, Item or Run. Fight, Item or Run.

Obviously running wasn't an option, but I realised that I needed to do something. It really came down to a choice between laughing, crying, or growing a backbone.

Backbone it was, I turned to the snarling blonde goddess before me as I pushed some of the jizz-soaked hair off of my face and tried to ignore the fact that I was as naked as a jaybird. Why are jaybirds naked anyway?

"Hi, I'm Bella. I'd say it's lovely to meet you, but I'm fairly certain that you're only seconds away from ripping my throat open and drinking my blood, which all things considered is pretty reasonable." I took a deep breath, encouraged by the fact that she hadn't moved yet and was rapidly flicking her gaze back and forth between me and Peter.

"Before you kill me, however, I have a small favour to ask. You see, dickweed over here neglected to mention to me that he was seeing someone, much less was mated. This is something I really would have liked to have known before, as I'm not really one for being a home-wrecker. So, I was wondering if you would mind punching him in the balls for me. See, I would do it myself, but it would probably break my hand and it wouldn't even hurt him at all. If you did it, however, maybe he would realise that some women don't particularly want to be the other woman."

I held my breath as I finished my rambling, and calmly waited for her to tear my head off. I even tilted my head to the side to expose my neck; I'm nothing if not courteous and it was only fair that I make this whole thing easier for the poor woman slash vengeful creature who was about to tear me limb from limb. Much to my surprise, instead of being the harbinger of my doom, she calmly walked over to Peter and socked him so hard in the junk that the bed frame broke.

A high pitched keening noise came out of Peter's mouth as he curled up in the foetal position, tenderly cupping his now-deformed junk. I was so distracted by the strange noise and the, well, the damage she had inflicted that I almost missed the hand she extended for me to shake. The very on which she had just used to demolish Peter's genitals.

"Hi, sug, I'm Charlotte. I'm surprised to say it is actually a pleasure to meet ya, despite the circumstances." She grinned at me and I robotically shook her hand as my brain tried to catch up with what was going on around me.

"Did you, did it…. Inside?" I stuttered.

She had actually punched him so hard that she knocked his balls back into his abdominal cavity. I had never seen anything like that before, I wasn't even entirely certain that what I was seeing was actually possible.

"Yep, it'll take them about a week to drop back out again, but it was worth it. That asshat knows better than to take a girl to bed without inviting me, and you clearly didn't know he was mated. Still, fucking a vamp and then challenging his mate? You've got balls, sugar."

All the tension sort of rushed out of me at once at the realisation that she wasn't going to kill me, yet. I started giggling, which turned into full blown belly laughs as Charlotte stared at me as if I had gone off the deep end, which I probably had.

"Sure, _I've_ got balls, but he doesn't." I barely managed to get the words out between my laughs as I raised a shaky hand in the direction of Peter who was now rocking back and forth talking to himself. I caught sight of the jizz trailing down my arm and was immediately brought back to reality.

"So, umm…. I'm just going to… get this off of me, and then I'll just… go. Yeah, I should leave."

It took a while after that before I was comfortable around either of them, but Peter was persistent. He adamantly argued to both me and Char that I was important, and that they should keep an eye on me, which translated to keep me around and occasionally in their bed. I don't think him using my fantastic rack as a bargaining tool won me any points with Char, but we eventually reached a tentative agreement that they would take me under their wing until whatever 'feeling' Peter had was resolved.

_;

Our strange arrangement was solidified when I was forced to flee Dartmouth and we ended up relocating to Memphis so that I could attend Rhodes College and finish up my degree. I'm still really fucking pissed about that, as I had been incredibly excited for the opportunity to attend Dartmouth. I had been offered a full scholarship when I applied as a dependant under Phil and Renee, using his athletic contacts to help my application get the attention of the scholarship committees. I earned the scholarship on my own, but I would probably have been overlooked without the assistance that Phil provided.

Shortly after I met both Peter and Charlotte, I received a mysterious package in the mail, addressed to Isabella Swan from the University scholarships department. It sent up immediate red flags in my mind, as I was enrolled under the name Isabella Swan-Dwyer in order to take advantage of Phil's assistance. Why would the University be sending me documents under a different name? Well, perhaps because they were not actually from the University.

Careful examination showed that the documents informing me that I was the recipient of the Pacific Northwest Trust scholarship which covered both my tuition and living expenses for the duration of my undergraduate career showed that while they were similar to the official scholarship documents I had received, there were a number of discrepancies indicating that they were not in fact official. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, enclosed within the documents was a cashier's check for $150,000 and no information on how to return the money. After consulting with Peter and Char, I decided to cash the money in the bank account I had used back in Forks and let it sit until we had a better idea of what to do about it.

I knew exactly who the money was from, and I was far less than pleased about his interference, once again, in my life. He had promised me that it would be as if he didn't exist and here he was trying to 'take care of me' without having the courage to face me. I didn't want to accept his money; I didn't want anything from him except for him to leave me alone. Knowing that he was likely to be monitoring my bank accounts, I promptly went out and spent and outlandish amount of money on sex toys and lingerie, something we all found immensely amusing. It would almost be worth facing him to see his expression when he realised that his innocent, naïve little angel was spending his money on such _tools of depravity_. At the end of the semester, I withdrew my enrolment and fled the state.

That was when I changed my name for the first time and assumed my first fake identity. Isabella Swan dropped off the grid, and became Marybella Jane Watson, known to colleagues and peers as Bella. The following fall, Mary Jane Watson married Peter Parker. My diploma when I graduated from Rhodes carried the name Mary Jane Parker and she and her husband Peter and her husband's sister Gwen Charlotte Parker relocated to New England. Isabella Dwyer occasionally reappeared, only to visit her father on the Quileute reservation where he had moved after he remarried. It was a place that they knew Edward wouldn't dare approach her, and it kept him from looking too hard for assumed identities.

The whole thing was a bit over the top, and of course ridiculous, but I understood that it was a difficult trail to follow, especially for someone like Edward who completely lacked a sense of humour.

Charlotte wasn't necessarily all on board for this, but she came to realise that I understood and respected their mating bond, and that I refused to sleep with Peter again, despite his insistence, and eventually she grew to respect me as well. We slowly became friends before we became lovers, and eventually the three of us settled into the strange relationship where I was somewhere between mistress, sister and friend. Even if legally, Charlotte was the mistress, much to her chagrin. It also helped when Char and I finally realised that it was easier to keep Peter in line if we worked together. I was far more devious that Char, but she was more, well, vampire. So often I was the brains and she was the execution, though not always.

~X_O~

As we walked through the airport and hailed a cab to our home, I laughed to myself, remembering when Peter had discovered the Urban Dictionary website. He donkey punched Char one day during sex and she wouldn't talk to him for a week. Eventually, I stepped in and offered to help her get revenge. Char started talking to him, pretending to have forgiven him, and let him talk her back into bed.

While he was going at her from behind, I snuck into the room on the premise that I wanted to join in on the fun. This was not particularly unusual, and Peter was expectedly happy for the company. I fondled Peter's balls and whispered dirty things in his ear has he pounded roughly into Char and just as he was about to cum, I picked up the baseball bat I had brought into the room with me and knocked him in the back of the head.

Peter's reaction was priceless, apparently the shock of it caused him to somehow go limp halfway through his orgasm and he spent the next three days complaining about a back-up in the pipes and busted nuts and other nonsense. On the plus side, he learned his lesson about donkey punching and other various 'treats' he could find on Urban Dictionary. Char and I named the move 'donkey's revenge' and even posted it on the Urban Dictionary website. We still frequently used it to threaten Peter when he got some ridiculous idea into his head.

~ O_o~

Once we had arrived home, Peter began whining about the wolf stench so I hopped into the shower, figuring he had spent enough time inhaling 'eau de wet dog' as he so kindly called it. I always found the scent of the wolves to be woodsy and reassuring, reminding me of home in a way, but I also realised that the scent of their natural enemies might be more than a little offensive to their super sensitive vampire senses, or as Peter sometimes calls it, his spidey-sense. I begrudgingly scrubbed myself clean, all the while keeping up strain of insults directed at Peter for pulling me away from my family after sending me there at the drop of a hat.

I don't think he really expected to be arrested though, and I just needed to get out of town. Whenever we were 'informed' that Edward was out searching for me again, we took precautions to get away from our home, so that I couldn't be tracked here. It was frustrating and a huge imposition both on us and on my employees, but I wanted to stay here. I was happy and I was building my life and business here, so if I had to flake out unexpectedly every so often, I could accept that if it meant I could keep my life here.

As I made myself a meal, Peter declared that it was time for a strategy session. His 'gift' was telling him that things were going to be heating up soon, and we needed to be prepared. When Charlotte arrived home the next day, the three of us were going to sit down and make a plan of action to hopefully get Edward out of my life for good. It was bittersweet, because I didn't know if Peter and Charlotte would still welcome me as part of their lives once the threat was over.

It also meant that the reality of me becoming a vampire might be actualised sooner than I expected. We all knew that it would have to happen eventually, a human could not be allowed to live knowing the truth about vampires, and I would rather be turned than killed for the knowledge that the Cullens had so carelessly bestowed upon me. We all agreed though, that it was better to wait until after all threats were gone before I was changed, because evading the mind-reading freak and Pippi the psychic whore would be more difficult when I was in my volatile newborn stage. We had been using the Quileute wolves' ability to block Alice's visions to our advantage, which was one of the reasons I went there every time I was threatened. Edward and Alice couldn't find me in La Push because they couldn't look for me there. A carefully worded injunction from Sam, the packs alpha also insured that no member of the pack could accidentally think about me or my location in case Edward was lurking in the shadows.

The only information Edward would be able to gleam from the wolves was that I was married and that I had moved away. No location, no last name, nothing to go by.

Should he choose to approach Renee and Phil, well they knew nothing of my life. After making the arrangements for me to attend Dartmouth, Renee had decided that she had done her duty as a mother and wanted nothing to do with me in the future. I reminded her too much of her failed marriage with Charlie and she wanted a chance to start fresh with Phil. I was an adult now and I could take care of myself, so as far as she was concerned I was no longer her problem. Harsh, perhaps, but perfectly Renee. She was self-centered and immature in the extreme, and after my initial heartbreak over her callous dismissal of her only child, I realised that in the long run it was best not to keep someone as toxic as her in my life.

My only connection to them now was the occasional use of their last name, and I'm fairly certain they had no idea about that. I wouldn't know; shortly after my high school graduation in Jacksonville they had kicked me out of their house and left me on my own. I found out that Phil's career had taken them out of Jacksonville shortly thereafter but I have no idea where to.

~~.~~

The following morning, Charlotte arrived back home and regaled us with stories of the lovely antiques she had found. When she eventually finished her story, and we had caught her up with what we had been up to, Peter decided it was time for a strategy meeting, and I decided it was time to give myself a mani-pedi.

Maybe I was being rude, but I knew that Peter would talk at me for a few hours until he figured out what we should do, and that my input wouldn't be valued very highly. Not to say that Peter didn't respect me or my opinions, it's just that when it came to strategy and warfare, he wouldn't listen to anyone, except perhaps Jasper. The captain was out this afternoon and there was nothing I could do to rein him in. I resigned myself to his ranting and raving and pacing and muttering while I tried to surreptitiously choose a nail polish colour.

He started going on about enlisting help, and well, to be honest I stopped paying attention after about 5 minutes of him comparing our situation to the Battle of New Orleans. I simply couldn't draw a parallel and his metaphors were so thick and convoluted that they made a Gordian knot look like Google Maps directions.

Should I go blue, no, maybe silver? Black? Black was a bit too gothic for my tastes, sure I wore black to work constantly, but I didn't want people to start thinking I was emo and checking my wrists for scars. Well, they would find scars there but not the kind they were looking for. I left the room to grab myself a glass of wine before settling in and returning to wait for Peter to make a point.

…

Hmm, pink. Pink - ah! Precious Princess Pink.

No.

Hmm, red? Maybe…no wait. Mulberry. Yes mulberry, what is that song? "_Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the…_" I started humming along to the tune in my head only to be interrupted.

"Pumpkin! Are you listening to me at all?"

I frowned and huffed, irritated at being disrupted from my singing, however tone deaf and cringe worthy it may have been. Back to what I was doing; yes, Mulberry, or no, wait-what about Confucian Crimson?

"Damnit, woman this is important!"

I looked over at my husband, standing there in all his manly glory, trying his hardest to glare down at me. I could see the amusement ripple across his features as I held two bottles of nail polish up to him, waving them around to indicate I wanted his opinion.

"Ugh, neither. Do that one where it's all natural and shiny with the white bit on the ends." He shook his head at me, still struggling to hide his smile.

"French Manicure." I hummed in thought, considering his proposal, then smiled up at him. "Thanks, Princess," I cooed at him, all sickeningly sweet.

His head whipped around, glaring at me for once again calling him Princess. He turned his back on me and resumed his pacing of the living room. He had been doing this for days, trying to go over the plan, trying to make everything 'perfect'.

I picked up my glass of Riesling, smirking at him over the rim as I carefully considered my next option. You could only push him so far. My husband had a great sense of humour, but he also had a strong sense of duty, and I wasn't in the mood for another one of these discussions. I took a sip of the cool liquid and decided on my own little plan.

I tried to hide my smile as I reached over to pick up another bottle from off of the coffee table by my feet.

"Dark chocolate?" I waved the offending bottle of nail polish in his direction, quirking an eyebrow. This could go either way, but I had another trick up my sleeve.

"Goddamn it, Pumpkin. This is fucking important. Stop fucking around with your goddamned foul smelling beauty crap and pay attention. You know, you used to be real smart."

He whirled around and snarled at me, impatience taking over and pushing his usual playful demeanour to the backburner. This would not do. In order for this discussion to be productive at all, he needed to be in a more agreeable mood.

I shrugged my shoulders, replacing the brown nail polish and reaching for my ace-in-the-pocket. I had been saving this one for a special occasion, and it seemed like now was the occasion. I turned my head and called over my shoulder.

"Sister dearest, hubby is being so cruel to me; he won't even help me pick out a nail colour. Whatever is a poor girl to do with such a big mean man?"

Quick as a flash, I saw my 'sister' waltz into the room. Flashing her eyes over to me, she caught onto my plan quickly and grinned. Looking over my husband appraisingly, she tutted and turned to me.

"Well sister-mine, we just can't have that, now can we? Who needs men anyway? You know, I could always help you out with your little problem." She winked at me as she leaned over, brushing her breasts against my arm while she reached to grab the bottle out of my hand.

"Why yes, I do think you are in need of some Luscious Lesbian…Lavender," she said, winking over at hubby.

Upon seeing the look on his face, we both cracked up- the combined force of our giggles nearly bouncing me off the couch before I managed to right myself.

"Oh, for the love of Gord, girls, who the hell makes up names for these things anyways? Lesbian lavender? What the hell!"

He was ranting and roaring and failing his arms around wildly, but I could tell my mission had been successful when I saw the amusement dancing in his eyes. He suddenly dove, tackling us both and knocking us, along with the couch, backward in the process. I sighed in relief, laughing along with the two of them; he knew why I was being a brat, and that he needed to calm down, but he just couldn't do it on his own.

"Okay, Big Poppa, now that we're all settled, let's get this couch righted and get me another glass of wine since you so gracefully knocked mine over." I giggled from my position, lying on the floor, on my back, with my legs flailing in the air.

I smiled up at my husband as he leaned down to help both of us up off the ground, and then righting the couch before disappearing to the kitchen. He returned shortly, carrying a fresh glass of wine for me, and settled himself on the red leather recliner across from us.

"OK, alright, I'm focussed now." I clapped and then rubbed my hands together, calling our little session to order. "Apparently it's time to go over the plan, again, and discuss all the details."

I looked over to the recliner expectantly, waiting for the point of his earlier ranting to come clear.

"Alright my little lesbian lovers, I don't know when, but things are going to start to change soon." He was leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasping his hands together under his chin. He was eyeing me suspiciously, waiting for me to pipe up with some wiseass comment.

"Yeah, about that, why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't we just be direct about all of this? Or hell, why are we even bothering with this elaborate plan?"

I crossed my arms and glared at him with exasperation. Yes, I always knew he was one for dramatics, but this was pushing the envelope even for him.

Stretching out in the recliner, resting hands behind his head, he grinned over at me.

"Oh my little darlin', this is going to be so much fun. You don't know even half of what is in store for you."

I looked over at the blonde bombshell grinning on the couch next to me and sighed. I just can't win with these people.

"Yeah, what's with that…I know you're not telling me everything, but what I don't get is WHY you won't just tell me what you know! What am I missing? This is my LIFE, not some fucking game for your amusement. You are my HUSBAND, no matter how little that means to you…"

My rant was cut off by two very aggressive sounding growls. I shut my eyes and began banging my head against the back of the sofa. Good god.

"Yes, I am your husband, and you are my wife, and don't get me wrong, I very much enjoy your wifely devotion." Without even looking, I could tell he was wiggling his eyebrows at me suggestively.

"*cough*slut*cough*" I turned my head to wink at sissy and stifled a giggle at her expression. She was struggling to fix me with a disapproving glare but failed miserably when I slid over and rested my head on her lap.

"Oh, honey, don't worry, I can be wifely devoted to you too." I wiggled my head around in her lap and tried to look up at her innocently as I reached up and patted her left tit gently. Unfortunately, or fortunately I suppose, the bounty that were her breasts were kind of obscuring my view of her face. I could still feel her shaking with laughter.

"Ok, girls, enough dicking around. This is serious." He giggled and continued, "I said dicking…oh god." Clearing his throat, he stood up and paced over to the fireplace. He turned his back on us, and I could tell that he was gently tracing the lines of his medals from the war.

"Honey, I know you don't understand why this is so important, but you…" he broke off, and his shoulders hunching over in defeat. "Damn it, you can barely even talk about it. Do you remember what you were like when I found you? Do you want to have to keep running, keep hiding all your life? I know you love me, as I love you, but this just isn't the way it's supposed to be."

He pounded his fist down on the mantle, flakes of granite raining down to his feet.

"Fuck sugar, we have to do this." He raged, fists clenched at his side, frustration and anger evident in his posture.

"Sweetheart, we know that maybe you are feeling apprehensive, and I...we understand that. But you need to know that no matter what happens, we will always be there for you, and we will always support you. Yeah, maybe Sir Breaks-A-Lot over there is making this much more complicated than it needs to be, but he wouldn't lead you wrong. You need to listen to what he has to say." I moved my head out of her lap and looked my sister in the face. This might have been the first time I had ever heard her sound so serious. She was a snarky bitch like me, and the fact that she was being so sober about this shocked me.

I frowned to myself. I understood where they were coming from; I still couldn't wrestle my way out from under the thumb of my past. I get it. I whimpered, and then suddenly found myself encircled by strong arms, squished up against luscious breasts. I nestled my face into my sister's hair and breathed deeply, finding comfort in the familiarity.

"Ok, I get it. We can't keep going on like this; I need to move forward, but…" I sighed to myself and turned to face Big Poppa, "I just don't understand why all the subterfuge, the drama. Can't we just…I don't know, be direct about this?"

"Because direct won't work!" He roared, twirling around to face me, and stomping across the room to stand over me.

I gazed up at his face; normally so relaxed and carefree, now drawn with tension. His eyes nearly black with anger, his brown hair falling across his forehead, his lips pulled tight, his chest rising and falling violently with rage. My eyes continued their path downwards, appreciating the strong lines, the dips and bulges of muscle emphasized by the tightness of his t-shirt, further, until I reached the buckle on his belt.

Fuck me. I stared at his belt buckle, willing my mind to see something else, but no, I couldn't erase this. His big shiny silver belt buckle, standing prominently and less than three feet from me had captured all of my attention. It was an oversized monstrosity of chrome and lacquer, and it was staring me right in the face.

I looked up at the man who had literally saved my life so many times and could hardly suppress my laughter. Soon I was shaking with the effort it took to hold in my guffaws. I grinned up at the incredulous expression on his face and struggled with all my might to keep a sober expression as I quirked an eyebrow at him, reading what written in big swirly letters, right above his crotch.

"_Disco Fever_? Really?"

He stared down at me, frustration evident in the set of his jaw as I started humming, and then breaking out into the full song and dance, replete with jazz hands.

"_Let's have some fun, this ride is sick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick_."

"A- Fuck You, Disco is Forever, and B – are you at all capable of taking anything seriously?" He fumed at me, evidently not enjoying my off-tune, off-beat, off-everything rendition of one of the worst pop songs of the decade.

I sighed deeply. "I just…I can't do this right now, I'm going out. I need to pick up some groceries, do either of you want anything?"

"Yeah, Pumpkin, can you pick me up some of the Axe soap that smells like sex and spice? I think it's called _Dark Temptation_."

I looked at him with a what-the-fuck expression written all over my face, and then shrugged and walked out of the room to grab my purse and my keys.

"See you later, bitches; please don't defile my goddamn kitchen counter again! I have to eat there."

~O.O~

I got the distinct impression, from Peter's not-so-subtle hint, that I was supposed to run into Jasper at the grocery store again and I really was not looking forward to it. I knew the shit was about to hit the fan, but I wasn't ready for it. That's why I had been so damn bitchy to Peter during his planning session. I get it, I appreciate everything he's doing for me, but all this hiding and running and craziness was starting to wear me down.

I love Peter, but sometimes I wanted to drive my truck over his face, then put it in reverse and hit him again. Instead, I got into my truck and reversed down the driveway and headed to the same grocery store where I had run into Jasper. It seemed like so much time had passed since then, but really it had only been a matter of days.

I counted in my head and realised that I had run into him on Saturday, fled to La Push on Saturday night, picked them up from jail on Monday and now it was only Tuesday. And I was supposed to work tonight. Fucking great.

I pulled out my phone and dialled Stef while I manoeuvred down the highway, she agreed to cover for me tonight in return for me having to have worked Saturday night for her. She had recovered from her cold and I was glad for it. No matter how much of an inconvenience it was when someone called in sick, it was better that they took the time to recover, plus who wants to pay $30 for a glass of high end whisky that someone had sneezed or coughed in.

I pulled into the parking lot and sat in my truck for a moment, trying to calm myself down and prepare myself for another encounter of the fucked up kind. A knocking at my window distracted me from my thoughts as I looked up into a concerned pair of amber eyes.

"Hello again Jasper, I was expecting you."

* * *

So, on the off-chance that some of these jokes aren't funny to you, I'll try to explain them.

Fight, Item or Run – a play on the classic format of RPGs, specifically Final Fantasy. For an amusing example, please see: http:/ questionablecontent(dot)net/view(dot)php(?)comic=720

For a definition of Donkey Punch, please see urbandictionary(dot)com. And yes, I actually created an urban dictionary definition for this story (see Donkey's Revenge)

Other things maybe I should explain? Gordian knot – its part of a legend about a knot that could not be untied and in the end was sliced in two by a sword, according to Wikipedia: 'It is often used as a metaphor for an intractable problem solved by a bold stroke'

And does anyone else find it amusing/annoying that MS Word autocorrects dickweed into duckweed? Because it really ruins the effect, but makes me laugh anyway.

So, I would like to take an uncharacteristically serious moment here and say that if I had to do this story over again from the start, I would probably completely drop the prologue/1st chapter. It doesn't make any sense, and it doesn't really fit here very well. I'll try to explain how it supposed to fit. It was a flash forward, to, you know, this chapter. It was supposed to set up some mystery and intrigue in this story, but I think all it really accomplished was to make every single person who has reviewed it go 'what the hell, this makes no sense'.

I would like to remedy that serious moment with the announcement that "oh my god its the zombpocalypse, I have updated two weeks in a row!" Also, it is so hot, my underboob is sweating.

And my story rec for this week? **Slow Burn** by **givemesomevamp** - it's still pretty early in, but its an alternate BD story about what would happen if those who swore to love and protect you betrayed you in the worst possible way?


	12. Chapter 12

**Dark Temptation**

So I failed at updating after a week, but two weeks ain't so bad, right? And this chapter comes with Jasper's penis, so... it's not all bad right. I swear, I panic over every chapter, that it's not as funny as I think it is, or that I'm not explaining myself or whatever. Luckily for me **Leelan Oleander** is the best cheerleader a girl could ask for, and she didn't even laugh at the absolutely horrible typing job I did on this chapter. Seriously. But you should have seen the hand-written starter, where I repeatedly misspelled words. It's like I'm regressing.

This story is rated M for language, adult themes, some smexin' and highly disturbing content. And apparently an over-abundance of urban dictionary references. I'd apologise, but you're the freak who's reading this.

Disclaimer: I wanted to say something witty about how I don't own twilight… but instead I'm going to tell you about the car that I don't own. It's invisible, doesn't exist and gets great gas mileage. Seriously, I went driving this weekend b/c I'm trying to learn how to drive standard... I miss driving! I never do it anymore.

* * *

**Dark Temptation**

**Chapter 12**

**JPOV**

"What the fuck are you doing here, Alice?"

I sneered her name as she reached out once again, trying to wrap her dainty little fingers back around my now completely limp dick. I nipped that shit in the bud though, wrapping my fingers around her wrist and applying just a little more pressure than necessary with my thumb and forefingers, pinching the tendons in her wrist and causing a small whimper of pain to escape her deceitful little mouth. I ain't never hit a woman outside of battle and I wasn't about to start now, but I'm enough of a bastard to admit that I took no small amount of satisfaction from the flash of pain and hurt that trickled out of the little bitch behind me.

Fast as a flash, I had turned both of us around and wrenched her arm up behind her as I marched her Prada-wearing ass out of the bathroom. Before she had enough time to protest or even react, I released her arm with a shove and slammed the bathroom door behind her, engaging the lock with a sharp click. Sure, it was a bit redundant, seeing as a locked door wouldn't actually deter her, but it sent a clear message for her to stay the fuck out. I could only hope she'd take the not-so-subtle hint.

I hopped back in the shower to rinse the remaining suds off my body and took a moment to mourn the loss of what would probably have been another glorious session of self-abuse before shutting off the water and quickly drying myself off. I eyed the discarded jeans and boxers on the floor, contemplating how nice it would have been to have a clean pair, before quickly putting them on. I wasn't about to parade around in a towel for my harpy of an ex-wife. She'd get the wrong hint and either try to molest me or dress me, neither of which I was in the mood for.

I briefly wished that my shirt had made it into the bathroom with me before I shrugged, remembering how much Alice disliked seeing the patchwork of scars that covered my torso. I contemplating stalling in the bathroom for a few more minutes but decided there was no use delaying the inevitable. I was also curious as to why now, of all times, the cunt decided to make an appearance.

I squared my shoulders and exited the bathroom and made no effort to hide my annoyance at her unexpected visit.

"Jazzy-poo! Why do you smell like whores?" she screeched, her usual levels of manic excitement bubbling over, slightly tainted by confusion and disgust, but overall failing to conceal her unease at the sight of my scars. I could only imagine the 'whores' she was smelling on me was some combination of strip club and Bella. I shifted back and forth uncomfortably, hoping that she wouldn't pick up on Bella's scent. I had only been around her briefly, so I'm hoping my shower was enough to disperse it. I held up my hand to silence her as I levelled her with a glare so menacing I'm sure she would have pissed herself if it was possible. Ignoring the second part of her statement, I started laying down the law.

"First of all, don't fucking call me _Jazzy-poo_, I'm not a fucking pet. Secondly, don't ever presume to touch me again or I will rip your hand off and burn it before you can ever register what's happening." I paused, taking an unnecessary breath as I made sure he tiny little brain could understand the words that were coming out of my mouth. Her wide eyes and the fear she was emanating told me that something other than this year's latest Jimmy Shoe models were sinking in. "And third, I asked you a fucking question and I expect an answer. What. The Fuck. Are you doing here?"

Here eyes widened even further, giving the comical appearance of one of those china dolls Char used to collect. As if a switch had flipped, she appeared to be back to her normal over-confident, bubbly self even though I could tell that it was just a façade.

"Well, _Jasper_," she emphasised my name. Did she want a fucking cookie or something? "I just haven't been able to see you very well in my visions and you never answer your phone, so when I saw a vision of you here I couldn't help but come and see you myself. I wanted to make sure you were alright; you never came back!"

Was she serious?

"Alice, we were married for a long time, and in that time did I treat you well?" She nodded cautiously.

"Did I put up with your incessant shopping?" She looked confused but nodded again.

"Did I ever raise my voice at you?" She shook her head, still completely clueless.

"Did I ever raise a hand at you? Disrespect you? Show you anything but love and devotion?"

"No…" she apparently found her voice, but confusion still laced her voice.

"Do you think I'm weak? Stupid? Do you think that you're better than me?" I was struggling to maintain an event one and at least pretend to act civil toward her.

"Jasper, I don't—"

"So, when you handed me divorce papers and told me you were disgusted by me and didn't want me around you or your family…" Realisation began to dawn on her features and I could feel her underlying frustration that things weren't going the way she expected.

"Did you think that I would come crawling back to you, begging for you to take me back? I'm sick of you and your fucking games, Alice."

"But, Jasper, I love you. I just thought that it would be better for the family if you went your own way for a while. After everything that happened –"

"You mean _'The Bella-Birthday-Snack incident_?" I snickered to myself, remembering Bella's reaction to those words before. I paused for a moment, part of me enjoying Alice's disgusted expression, the other part of me recalling her earlier admission. She can't see me very well lately, which probably means she doesn't know what I've been up to lately. This could be interesting, time to see what kind of information I could get out of her. While I was lost in thought, she had started speaking again.

"Really, Jasper, there's no need to be so glib about it. You attacked my best friend, your brother's mate." I snorted to myself, wondering if she had any idea of what my real brother was up to.

"How is your best friend these days? Does she still put up with your manipulative ass? Have you been having fun moulding your little Bella Barbie into the perfect companion for that dickless Ken-doll you call a brother?"

"I don't know," she whispered, her head hung low.

"Excuse me?" I sneered at her.

"I said I DON'T KNOW!" She was screaming at me now. "We can't find her. I can't really see her anymore either, just like you I only get flashes of her. When we show up to find her though, she's never there. There is no trace of Bella Swan anywhere, no one has seen her. No one in Forks knows where she is and those stupid mutts won't let us near her father to find out. Edward and I have spent years looking for her." She cried out in frustration as she shook her head from side to side.

It wasn't news to me that Bella wasn't with them but…and once again my slow-ass brain caught up to the present as realisation coursed through me. _I got the magic stick. I know if I can hit once, I can hit twice. I hit the baddest chicks._ Fucking Peter. I winced, knowing somehow that he was at fault for me knowing the lyrics to some awful rap song about dicks.

"You didn't bring that little virgin boy wonder here, did you?"

"No, he's on his way to Seattle right now, tracking down a lead on Bella's whereabouts." I could feel the sincerity in her words and I relaxed, trying to get the stupid song out of my head knowing that he wasn't nearby to glean any information from my thoughts. I knew where Bella was, and I couldn't help but assume that she didn't want to be found. I briefly pondered why not, but then shuffled that out of my head, knowing that for the most part it was none of my business. It sure would have been nice of Peter to fill me in on that tidbit though. I hoped that he and Bella were on their way out of town so they wouldn't accidentally cross paths with Alice.

"So, let me get this straight, you kicked me out of your family so that Edward could have his Bella, and now that you can't find her, you figure it's safe for me to come back?" By her sudden burst of hope, I could see that I was on the right track. Batshit crazy, she's fucking bat shit crazy. I didn't know vampires could go insane but clearly, she has gone insane if she thinks I'm going to go along with that.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. You were supposed to stay away for a few months; Edward would swoop in and protect Bella from Victoria. You would come and help in the battle and we'd all reunite, no hard feelings and we all live happily ever after." She seemed so matter of fact about this that my infinitely vast vampire mind just boggled at her sheer audacity and the magnitude of 'WTF' that statement inspired. I wonder if Carlisle was aware he had a deranged vampire in his coven.

"You left a human, your best friend and Edward's mate vulnerable and unprotected, knowing that an angry vampire hell-bent on revenge for the death of her mate was after her? Are you fucking stupid?" I was hissing at Alice, completely confounded by the gall of her. Did she have a vision that this would all end happily, because I can't see any future where that would be the case.

"Well, she wouldn't have been after Bella if it weren't for you. You are the one who killed James after all." She harrumphed and crossed her arms over her non-existent chest as if this whole thing was so obviously my fault.

"Gee, Alice, I'm sorry, would you have preferred I sat down with Bitey McPyschofang and explained to him that it wasn't nice to bite Edward's human. '_I understand we maybe didn't explain this before, but that one's not food, it's just for decoration_.' For fuck's sake, he threw her around like a ragdoll and _bit _her, what was I supposed to do?"

I knew that I was taking out my anger on Alice, and although she deserved a world of hurt, I should have know better than to leave half of a mated pair alive. Not only was it stupid and dangerous, but it was just plain cruel.

"What happened anyway, did Edward stop to check his hair and miss the fight?" I laughed to myself, knowing that wouldn't be too far-fetched for Eddie-boy.

"I don't know, I couldn't see the fight until it was too late and then she was in the hospital and then she disappeared. Those stupid dogs blocked my visions." She growled and actually stomped her foot. Poor little princess didn't get the Barbie she wanted for Christmas and instead got a big slobbering, stinking mutt tearing through her presents. Wait, there's something to that analogy, but before my mind could make the connection she was speaking again and her high pitched tone was grating on my nerves.

"I mean, how ungrateful is she? We paid all her hospital bills and were busy organising the perfect reunion when she broke into the Forks house and her dogs urinate on Edward's piano before setting it on fire!" Her face was scrunched up in obvious disgust. Poor little Alice, Bella had upset her delicate sensibilities.

"Wait, I thought you couldn't 'see' the dogs?"

"I can't, but I could smell it! I mean we get back to the house all laden down with wedding gowns for Bella when I'm assaulted by the stench of Bella and burning wolf urine."

I burst out into laughter, Bella really does have balls of steel, Pete was right.

"Of course, after he calmed down, Edward forgave her. We both understand that hanging out with such uncultured filth could negatively influence her, but once we find her and she is reunited with Edward we will make sure she understands that such uncouth behaviour is not becoming of a lady. Perhaps as penance for her ungrateful behaviour we will enrol her in etiquette classes. Oh! And we could have a debutante ball when she re-enters society as a woman worthy of gracing Edward's arm."

I fully lost it, and nearly fell on my ass laughing as I pictured the Bella that I had recently become acquainted with attending etiquette classes.

'_Dearest sir, wouldst thou kindly go fornicate with thyself. Or perhaps your lordship would prefer to perch thy bottom upon my delicate middle finger whilst though spinnest about?'_ Oh god, I can picture her all dressed in Emily Post approved tweed suits or dainty 50's housewife dresses while she politely explains to some old biddy what a Cleveland Steamer is. Diagrams included.

I reckon she would even lift her dainty little finger while sipping tea and explaining to her sewing circle what a Dirty Sanchez is.

Alice was giving me strange looks while my mind kept looping through similarly absurd scenarios.

"I don't mean to burst your bubble there ya pint-sized psychotic psychic, but I reckon maybe you can't find her because she doesn't want to be found. Maybe the thought of 'gracing Edward's arm' as you put it, isn't as appealing now as it was when she was seventeen."

"Of course it does," she snapped, "Bella belongs to Edward; she just needs to learn her place."

My non-existent blood boiled at the gall of the delusional crap that my ex-wife was spouting. It brought me back to one of my few human memories involving one of our farm hands. I had seen him smacking his wife and when I asked why he told me that she hadn't had dinner ready on the table when he got home. Never mind the fact that he had drank away his entire pay check and she had no money to buy food; his woman needed to learn her place. That kind of behaviour disgusted me then and it disgusts me now.

I couldn't help but wonder how Alice's assessment of Bella and Edward's relationship reflected on our previous relationship. Knowing that physical violence against me was a very bad option, she had kicked me out of the family as chastisement until I learned my place. Unfortunately for her, my place is wherever I choose to be, which no longer involves her or the farce she calls a family.

I largely tuned Alice out as she spent the next few hours expounding on how Bella should simply accept that her future was to be by Edward's side. Of course she was still in love with him, she was lucky he was willing to expend the effort to find her. He should just leave her alone and wait for her to come crawling back to him when she realised her life was miserable without him, but he loved her even if she wasn't deserving of it. He and Alice didn't think it right that she might have to work just because she was going through some rebellion.

'A woman shouldn't have to stoop to such degradation when her ultimate career should be wife.' On and on she went as I drew my parallels with what I had said previously to both Bella and Peter. God in Heaven, I hope I never sound like as much of a self-righteous uptight ass as she does.

I'm not even sure she realised that I wasn't paying attention as she kept going on and on about how difficult Bella was being. And how frustrating it was that her visions of Bella were sparse and fuzzy and how many near misses they had had. How dare she make them go to such effort to find her and make sure she was living in a manner becoming of a Cullen?

Interspersed within her incessant whining about Bella were chastisements directed towards me. I should dress better, why was I staying at such a mid-class hotel? Did I expect her to fit all her luggage in a room with such small storage space, and 'how can I expect her to hang Chanel, _Chanel_, on the cheap wire hangers the hotel had provided'. Don't remember inviting you, bitch.

On and on she went, and then she begins on how when I go back to the Cullen's home with her, they will forgive me, and she can dress me in some proper clothes instead of these ratty jeans. Blue jeans? Didn't I know that they were out of style, and with my bone structure I should…

After trying repeatedly to explain to her that we were not getting back together and that I was not moving back with the Cullens, and 'no I did not want to wear the damn khakis she brought me,' I finally lost my temper.

"Fuck you, Alice. Get the fuck out of my life and stay out. And I'm glad Bella has managed to evade you; she deserves better than being arm candy in some kind of fucked up Cleaver family reunion." Ignoring her gasp of 'Language, Jasper', I slipped on my shirt, grabbed my jacket, keys and phone and stormed out of the hotel room. Fuck whatever else is left there, it could be replaced but my sanity could not and if I had to listen to another moment of her fucking delusions I was going to seriously lose it.

I made a quick detour by the front desk on my way to the garage to retrieve my bike. The attendant looked halfway between amused and horrified when I explained to him that somehow a 13 year old girl had found her way into my room and convinced herself that we were married and meant to be together forever.

I smirked to myself as I hopped onto my bike and revved the engine, looking forward to getting home. _Home_. Somehow, it wasn't an image of my house that came to mind at the world, but a memory of Bella sitting on my couch animatedly arguing with me about revisionist history. I had a feeling I'd let her argue with me about anything that would spark passion in her eyes and erase the look of disappointment that she had levelled at me when we last parted ways.

* * *

I really enjoy trying to provide you with amusing A/Ns, and its probably not always successful, so instead I'll tell you that while writing this chapter I was listening to the soundtrack from Across the Universe, which while awesome, was not appropriate in any way shape or form. However, I had to listen to something to get the Mean Kitty song out of my head. So damn cute that little mean kitty. (It's on youtube)

Shit I googled for this chapter? The lyrics for 50 Cent's Magic Stick. Never thought I'd need to do that. My life is sad sometimes.

I do have a question for my readers. I may completely disregard your answer though. I'm trying to think my way around telling the story of how Bella and Peter first met. Peter really REALLY wants to tell it, but the problem is, he doesn't get a POV in this story. So options include:  
A) Bella tells the story, kinda vaguely maybe, and we cross our fingers for a PPOV outtake of the encounter. Trust me, it would be epic hilarious from Peter's perspective. It involves zombies. OR  
B) Bella, Peter, Char and Jasper are all sitting around while Peter tells the story, but we're hearing it through someone else's head. So we get the hilarious narrative, but maybe lack some of his more colourful internal comments. You know if the shit that comes out of his mouth is bad, the shit he doesn't say would be even worse.

Anyways, just some thoughts, I'll probably ignore what you all have to say, if anyone does in fact respond to my question, and write it the way the characters make me. And if you're wondering what *I'm* reading, well I just re-read **The Quiet Room** by **givemesomevamp**, but my daily excitement comes from updates of **Flesh and Blood** by **JizzyHips** - it's a collab, and it involves Mrs. Cope thinking about vibrators.


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